


Accidentally in Love

by AlexSW97



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, M/M, Physical Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 35,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5671345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexSW97/pseuds/AlexSW97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas accidentally kisses Newt. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, Thomas kissed his best friend, and he's flooded with emotions he didn't even know he had for Newt. One problem- Thomas's dad is completely homophobic. How will Thomas deal with the lack of acceptance from his dad, and his growing crush on Newt?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist for the fic:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/deanstylinson/playlist/7oOAy0SN7HzpsvbfblqcY4

Thomas was currently laying upside down with his feet hang over the back of the couch. He was fully aware of how ridiculous he must look, especially to Newt, who was curled up on the couch beside him, but he was too tired to care. To be fair, Newt looked almost as ridiculous. What, with his face smushed against the couch, one leg drawn underneath himself, and the other outstretched over Thomas’s stomach. 

“We look stupid,” Thomas commented, staring blankly at the TV, which was playing a dumb cartoon.

“I’m bloody comfortable, though,” Newt muttered, his words slurring together as his jaw struggled to move against the couch. “I wouldn’t mind a beer, though. Tommy, go get me a beer.”

“Newt, you’re on top of me,” Thomas pointed out. Newt only grunted in response, not even bothering to move his leg off Thomas. Thomas rolled his eyes, lifting Newt’s leg off his stomach and twisting his way off the couch. He got to his feet, making his way to the kitchen.

Thomas glanced at the clock; 1:57 am. It was surprisingly early for the pair to be home on a Friday night. Normally they both work the late shift at the bar, not getting off until three. Tonight, however, Minho had let the pair leave early, claiming they needed ‘well-deserved rest’. Thomas snagged a couple of beers from the fridge, making his way back to the couch.

“Thanks Tommy,” Newt mumbled, flipping onto his back and backing grabbing hands at the bottle. Thomas rolled his eyes, sitting at the other end of the couch, holding the bottle away from Newt.

“Say ‘Thomas is my best friend in the whole fucking world, and he is a sex God’.” Thomas demanded playfully. 

“No,” Newt refused sitting up and leaning on Thomas to try and reach the bottle. 

“Say it Newton,” Thomas demanded again.

“Never,” Thomas managed to set both bottles safely on the table, grabbing Newt’s wrists to keep him from snatching one. 

“Say it, or else...”

“Or else what?” Newt challenged, smirking at Thomas. Thomas smirked back, letting go of Newt’s wrists, attacking his sides with tickles. “No! Tommy, no, stop!” Newt gasped, squirming around in Thomas’s grasp. Thomas pushed him backwards, so that Newt was pinned underneath him. 

“Say it Newt,” Thomas laughed, having much more control of the situation now that Newt was underneath him. 

“No, never!” Newt yelled, reaching down with one hand to tickle the back of Thomas’s knee. His leg buckled, and he fell forward, landing with his face directly beside Newt’s. “You’re squishing me, get off!” Newt tried to push Thomas off, limbs flailing, but it was no use, Thomas was getting what he wanted. 

“No, say it Newt,” He turned his face to look at Newt, but apparently the blond boy had done the same. Newt’s lips were on his. 

Thomas froze, not really able to pull back, as his head was already against the back of the couch. Newt turned his head back to face the ceiling, and the kiss was broken. Both of them were bright red, and Thomas couldn’t help but laugh. “Say it,” He insisted once more, prepared to pretend that a) that never happened, and b) his heart was still beating at a regular pace.

“Thomas is my best friend in the whole fucking world, and he is a sex God.” Newt groand, avidly avoiding eye contact. Thomas sat up quickly, awkwardly straddling Newt for a few seconds, before he managed to climb off the couch completely. Thomas grabbed one of the beers, handing it to Newt.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Newt shook his head, taking a long sip of his beer. He was still bright red, and not talking. “Sorry about,  _ that _ ,” Thomas scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“It’s cool,” Newt muttered, taking another swig of his beer. “Come watch Spongebob.” Newt patted the space beside him, smiling at Thomas. Thomas smiled back, relieved that things weren’t actually going to be that awkward between them. He grabbed his beer, laying down on the couch, feet propped on Newt’s lap.

An hour and a half later, Thomas heard soft snores coming from the other end of the couch. Thomas glanced over to Newt, turning off the TV at the same time. Newt’s head was lolled to the side, facing Thomas, and his lips were slightly parted. The moonlight streamed in through the window, highlighting the edges of Newt’s feathery hair and his tanned skin. It was honestly breathtaking.

Thomas bit his lip, continuing to stare at Newt. Okay, so maybe that was an odd thing to say about your best friend. Like a really, really odd thing. In Thomas’s defense, however, it wasn’t like they never told each other when they looked good, right? Except this time Newt was asleep, and Thomas wasn’t going to tell him. 

Thomas shook his head, carefully taking his feet off Newt’s lap. He tip-toed to Newt’s bedroom, pulling back the covers on his bed, so that he could easily slip Newt into them. He walked back to the couch, sliding one arm under Newt’s knees, and one around his back, picking him up bridal-style, 

Thomas set the boy down on his bed, quickly helping to get Newt’s shirt off. He had just undone the button on Newt’s jeans, when he stirred. “Undressing me after one kiss, Tommy?” Newt mumbled, not even opening his eyes.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Thomas teased.  _ Thomas would like that _ . Newt hummed in response, lifting his hips to allow Thomas to slip his jeans off. Thomas placed Newt’s dirty clothes in the laundry basket, and came back to tuck Newt in.  Newt cuddled deeply into the blankets once Thomas had thrown them over him.

“Night Tommy.”

“Good night Newton,” Thomas went back to the living room, cleaning up the empty beer bottles. He walked to the kitchen, silently setting the bottles down on the counter. He walked over to the medicine cabinet, pulling out three bottles of pills. He dumped a pill from each bottle into his hand, and grabbed a glass of water. 

He tip-toed back to Newt’s room, quietly setting them down on the bedside table. Every night Thomas would do this, in order to make sure Newt never forgot. Even if Thomas was away, he’d text Newt a reminder in the morning. He’d never asked Newt why he jumped, but he wanted to ensure it  _ never _ happened again. 

Thomas quietly walked to his own room, stripping down and slipping under the covers. He let his thoughts wander to Newt. His deep brown eyes, his mop of blond hair, his pink lips. It wasn’t even a real kiss, to be fair, but Thomas couldn’t stop thinking about it. The softness of his lips, though slightly chapped, and the way their lips slid together when Newt turned his head away. 

Thomas had never even kissed a  _ boy _ let alone Newt. What if his parents found out about this? Sure, Newt was gay, but they had decided to keep that a secret from Thomas’s parents, for Newt’s own safety. Thomas’s father often said terrible, horrible things about what he would love to do to ‘those homosexuals’, and it honestly made Thomas sick. He had tried standing up to his father when he was younger, and still lived with them, but after a few dozen black eyes, Thomas had given up and just decided to move out. 

Thomas sighed, ruffling up his hair. Thomas let his thoughts wander back to Newt. He thought about Newt’s smile, and his laughter. He thought about the scrunched up face that Newt makes when he’s thinking. He thought about Newt’s hands, with their long, thin fingers. He thought about holding Newt’s hand. He thought about kissing his fingers. He thought about what else those fingers could do-

Thomas was  _ royally  _ fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so I'll be updating every Tuesday/Friday. Let me know if you guys have any ideas on where you want this story to go!  
> -Alex

Thomas and Newt were on their break. The bar was exceptionally busy tonight, and they’d both missed supper. They were currently leaning against the brick wall of the bar, in the back alley. Newt has a cigarette dangling from his lips, and he was staring up at the stars.

“It’s a good life, Tommy.” Newt told him around the cigarette. He took a long drag of it, before offering it to Thomas. Thomas gratefully took it, breathing in the smoke.  _ This is like indirectly kissing Newt.  _ Thomas almost slapped himself at the thought. This had been going on all week, ever since they kissed.

“Yeah,” Thomas agreed quietly, handing the cigarette back to Newt. “Yeah, it is.” Newt looked like a perfect picture of ‘bad boy.’ He was leaning against the brick wall, his bad leg bent, so that that foot was resting against the wall, and the other was supporting all of his weight. His leather jacket was hanging open, despite the cool air nipping at his skin, and the cigarette hanging from his mouth was probably the hottest thing Thomas had seen in his life. Ever.

“Whatcha starin’ at Tommyboy?” Newt asked, passing him the cigarette again.

“You, obviously. You know I can’t get enough of you, babe.” Thomas winked as Newt rolled his eyes. He figured the best way to hide his crush, would just be to admit it in their usual banter. It was working great so far.

“Look Tommy,” Newt smiled. “I know you’re in love with me and everything, but try to keep it in your pants till we get home.” They both laughed, and Newt sent him a wink. “C’mon, let’s go back inside.” Thomas threw the cigarette to the ground, putting it out with his heel.

They walked inside, hanging their jackets up. They left the back room, to where the party was really picking up. Thomas went to his place behind the bar, quickly filling a dozen shot glasses and putting them on a tray for Newt to take. Newt smiled, adjusting his white button up shirt (which was unbuttoned  _ really  _ far) and leaning over the counter to grab his own shot glass. He lifted it towards Thomas, who filled it up for Newt. Newt shot it back, setting it down in it’s place, and took the tray into the crowd.

The rest of the night was spent mixing drinks and stealing glances at Newt. “The girls at table four are asking for your number, Tommyboy,” Newt told him with a wink, bringing a tray full of empty glasses back to the bar. Thomas looked over to see a table full of very attractive girls whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at him.

“Tell them I’m gay,” Thomas told Newt, preparing more drinks for him to take out. Thomas looked around the bar, eyes settling on a brunette boy who looked to be around their age. “If they ask, I’m interested in him.” Thomas pointed to the boy.

“Thomas, normally you’d be all over that table, what’s up?” Newt asked, taking his time arranging the drinks on his tray.

“Nothing, just not up for it tonight.” Thomas shrugged, handing Newt the last two drinks.

“Do ya want me to give that guy your number?”

“No,” Thomas sighed, regretting the giant hole he’d dug himself.

“We don’t have to talk about it. I’ll just give it to him, you take him home, and we won’t ever mention it again,” Newt supplied, shrugging. “Unless you want to.” Thomas sighed, before grabbing a slip of paper and writing a number down on it. He handed it to Newt.

“Give this to him,” Newt looked down at the paper, and smirked.

“That’s my number Tommy,” He pointed out, glancing over his shoulder at the boy.

“Yeah, you need to get laid, I’ll sleep at Min’s tonight.” Thomas shrugged. Newt shot him a big smile, and stuffed the paper in his pocket, carrying the drinks out onto the floor again.  _ Wait, shit.  _ Thomas’s heart broke a little bit as he watched Newt flirt with the guy, eventually handing his number over.

As they finally closed the doors, Newt scurried over to him, a suave smile on his face. “You’re okay with cleaning up? He’s waiting outside, and it’s awfully cold.”

“Course I am, Newt,” Thomas smiled, wiping down the counter. Newt grinned as he pulled his coat on. “So what’s his name?”

“I forgot to ask,” Newt laughed, pulling the pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “Should probably figure that out, so I have something to moan tonight. If not, i’ll just moan your name,” Newt winked, then held up the pack. “Yes, or no?”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded. “You look even hotter with a cig hanging from your mouth. Trust me, you’ll have him on his knees before you even get a cab.” Thomas winked.

“Thanks Tommy,” Newt smiled, popping one into his mouth and pulling his lighter out. “You’re the best.” Newt called as he disappeared through the back door, already fumbling to light the thing. Thomas sighed, crossing his arms and laying his head down on them.

“You alright there, Tomboy?” Thomas spun around to find Minho with a broom in his hand. Thomas nodded, not making a move to continue cleaning.

“Is it cool if I stay the night?” Thomas asked, watching Minho drag the broom across the floor.

“Newt take someone home?” Thomas nodded, lazily moving the cloth over the spot in front of him. “Are you jealous?” Minho asked casually, coming to stand in front of the counter. Thomas stood up quickly, planting a shocked expression on his face.

“No,” He quickly denied, shaking his head for good measure.

“Sure,” Minho smirked, leaning on the counter. “I see the way you look at him. Especially this week, dude. Did something happen?” Thomas sighed, walking around the bar to sit on the floor. Minho sat down beside him, dropping the broom with a loud, snapping noise.

“We kinda, maybe, accidentally kissed,” Thomas admitted, leaning his head on Minho’s shoulder.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No!” Thomas shook his head. “Now I think I have a crush on him. And I also think I’m gay. Maybe. I can’t stop staring at guys, and don’t really give a damn about girls anymore.” Thomas groaned, letting his head slip off Minho’s shoulder, and he laid in his friend’s lap like a small kid. Minho played with his hair absentmindedly.

“What about your dad?” Minho asked in a small voice. Thomas felt his throat constrict, tears prickling at his eyes.

“I don’t know,” Thomas let out a small sob. He felt stupid, crying like this, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Minho shushed him, and continued to play with his hair.

“You should tell Newt,” Minho muttered about ten minutes later, after Thomas had stopped crying like a baby.

“That I have a ginormous crush on him? That I’m kind of in love with him? No way Min,” Thomas shook his head, sitting up.

“No, well maybe. You should tell Newt that you’re gay,” Minho explained, ruffling Thomas’s hair. “He knows a lot about that shit. He could probably give you a few pointers on how to talk to your dad.” Thomas sighed, but didn’t say anything.

Minho stood up a few seconds later, and quickly finished cleaning. “C’mon, let’s go to bed, dude.” Minho pulled Thomas to his feet, leading him up the stairs to Minho’s loft. Minho let his shower, and then gave him a few blankets and a pillow to curl up on the couch with.

Thomas laid down, staring at the roof. He tried hard not to think about what Newt was doing right now. How he was touching that  _ other  _ guy. He was almost asleep, when he remembered to text Newt.

To: Newtie Boy

Don’t forget your meds. Was it awesome? Did ya scream my name? ;)

Thomas dropped the phone next to his pillow, letting his eyes close. That night he dreamt of Newt. Newt doing all those things to Thomas, that he was probably doing to that guy right now. He dreamt of the faces Newt would make during it all. And most importantly, he dreamt of kissing Newt for real.

When he woke in the morning, the sun was pouring into the room, and there was a text waiting for him.

From: Newtie Boy

Tnx. Only screamed your name when I came, baby ;)

To: Newtie Boy

You’re disgusting

From: Newtie Boy

Had to, his name was ironically Thomas... wasn’t that good tho, bet you’d be betta

To: Newtie Boy

Wanna test that theory? ;)

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was posted so late today, I had a different chapter planned as being Chapter 3, but I decided to make more Newtmas cuteness :)  
> -Alex

Thomas stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, his foot catching on the edge. He yelped, hands flying in front of himself to stop his fall. He quickly steadied himself, before continuing up the stairs and into the hallway. 

He reached their door, quickly unlocking it, and stepping through. He thought about being quiet, but then decided if Newt was still sleeping, that other guy probably was too, and Thomas couldn’t let that go on any longer. “Honey, I’m home- woah.”

Newt walked out of the kitchen, stretching his arms above his head. Shirtless. His hair was ruffled, pointing in every direction possible. He sleepily smiled at Thomas as the brunette’s eyes roamed down his body. Bite marks, bruises and scratches littered Newt’s body. Thomas felt a surge of jealousy that someone  _ else _ had marked Newt like that. 

“Hey Tommy,” Newt waved, stifling a yawn.

“Thought you said it wasn’t very good,” Thomas accused with a wink, walking past Newt and slapping his ass. Newt winced at this, causing Thomas to raise an eyebrow.

“He was a little rough for my liking. For a hookup, at least,” Newt shrugged, following Thomas into the kitchen. 

Thomas walked to the fridge, pulling out the carton of eggs. “Looks like it. Have you eaten?”

“Nah,” Newt shook his head, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. “Was waiting for you, darling,” Newt winked, turning the element on. Thomas walked over with four eggs, cracking them into a bowl, before mixing them up. 

“Want to make some bacon?” Thomas suggested, pouring the eggs into the frying pan. If Thomas’s hand grabbed Newt’s over top of the handle, neither of them mentioned it. Newt pulled his hand away, grabbing the bacon from the fridge. 

Five minutes later, breakfast was ready to eat. The pair dumped the food onto their plates, and went to sit on their bar stools. They ate in silence for a few minutes, before Thomas cleared his throat. “He didn’t hurt you, right?” He asked, eyeing a particularly deep bite mark on Newt’s shoulder. Newt shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes on his plate. “Newt?”

“It’s fine Thomas,” Newt snapped, standing up to put his plate in the sink. Thomas grabbed his arm to stop him, giving Newt a look that said ‘you’re not brushing this off.’ Newt sighed, placing his plate back on the bar. “Tommy, I’m fine. Just a bit sore, is all.” 

“A bit? This bite mark looks like a dog gave it to you,” Thomas exclaimed, fingers gently brushing over a bite on Newt’s ribcage. 

“Well it was actually a rather cute boy,” Newt’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Thomas. “Since when do you care?”

“Since I came home to my best friend looking like he got hit with a car!” Newt didn’t say anything, only crossed his arms. “I’m going to run you a bath.” Thomas decided, grabbing both of their plates and taking them to the sink.

“I’m twenty-three, I do not need you to run me a bath,” Newt pouted from behind him. Thomas rolled his eyes, grabbing Newt’s wrist and dragging him towards the bathroom. “Seriously Tommy, I’m fine. Just a little more than I was expecting.”

“You need to find a decent guy, get a boyfriend or something,” Thomas told him, turning the water on and testing the temperature. He dumped some bubble bath in and turned to Newt who was sitting on the toilet seat. 

“I don’t want a boyfriend,” Newt told him standing up to look at the bruises in the mirror. He touched one gingerly, before sighing. Thomas’s heart broke slightly at this statement, but he said nothing as he stepped up behind Newt, maintaining eye contact in the mirror. 

“You need someone who you can trust not to hurt you,” Thomas gently traced his fingers over the long scratches on Newt’s back. “Someone who can take care of you,” He pressed a delicate kiss to the bite mark on Newt’s shoulder. The blonde stiffened, but their eye contact never broke. “Someone who knows your limits.”

Thomas stepped away, turning back to the bathtub to inspect the water level. “You offering?” Newt asked, a smirk on his face, arms crossed over his bare chest. Thomas snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah darlin’, let’s just go fuck in your bed,” Thomas shut the water off, standing up properly again. 

“You know you want to,” Newt sent a wink his way, popping the button on his jeans while maintaining their eye contact. Thomas swallowed thickly, but managed to roll his eyes with some difficulty.

“Whatever, get in the bath, will ya? You stink like sex,” Newt laughed as Thomas walked out of the washroom, closing the door behind him. Thomas sighed, letting his head knock against the bathroom door. His heart was racing, thoughts moving a mile a minute. He didn’t know whether to be turned on by after-sex Newt, or furious that someone would take so little care when with Newt. Thomas was mostly mad at himself, he decided, having been the one to get Newt to even notice the guy.

“Tommy?” Newt’s voice was so quiet, Thomas barely heard it. He sounded scared almost, and Thomas turned to face the door, hand resting on the knob.

“Yeah?” Newt didn’t respond immediately, and Thomas held his breath.

“Do you think this needs stitches?” Thomas opened the door quickly, pausing when he saw a very naked Newt. “Sorry- I-” Thomas’s eyes fell on a long, deep cut on the outside of Newt’s hip, starting just below where the waistband of his underwear would be. Thomas rushed forward, grabbing a washcloth and dunking it in the warm bathwater. He dropped to his knees, carefully dabbing the cloth at Newt’s hip.

“What he do this with?” Thomas very nearly growled, watching as the white cloth began to turn red. 

“A knife,” Newt whispered, face flushed. Thomas stared at him for a moment, wondering if Newt was ashamed. He then realised he was on his knees in front of a naked Newt. And oh, that was his best friends cock, right there, less than a foot away, half hard. Thomas coughed awkwardly, eyes focused on Newt’s hip.

“He just pulled a knife?” Newt nodded, closing his eyes and looking at himself in the mirror. “Did he use it anywhere else?” Newt shook his head, swallowing thickly. “Newt?”

“No. No, he tried to, but I kicked him out.” Newt whispered, looking down at Thomas again. Thomas nodded, trying to keep his eyes focused on what he was doing, rather than the way his fingers were splayed across Newt’s thigh. Right now was probably not the best time to get hard. 

“I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered, standing up once the cut looked clean. “I mean, I convinced you to hook up with him.”

“Hey, he  _ was _ cute,” Newt laughed, ruffling his hair. “Right, so stitches?” 

“Probably not,” Thomas examined the cut, letting his eyes wander a bit more this time. “I think you should be alright.” Newt nodded, looking away again, cheeks bright red. “Wanna watch a movie tonight?”

“You know I can’t say no to you, Tommy.”

\--------------------------

Newt’s hair smelt like Thomas’s strawberry shampoo. The blond’s head was tucked neatly into Thomas’s shoulder, a blanket draped over the pair. Newt had long since turned off the TV, falling asleep rather quickly. Thomas, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep at all. 

His hands were clasped around Newt like his life depended on it, like the world was out to hurt the boy, and this was the only way to protect him. Newt shifted slightly in Thomas’s arms, moving to face him. “Hi Tommy,”

“Hey,” They were whispering, even though there was no reason to. It was like they were keeping a secret from the world; then again, maybe they were. Newt smiled at him, not saying a word. “You want to sleep in your own bed now?” 

“Hmm...” Newt continued to stare at him long enough for it to get awkward. Thomas felt his face begin to redden, and he looked down at his hands. “Tommy?”

“Yeah?” Thomas was so embarrassingly desperate to answer any question Newt had. 

“Would you have actually hooked up with that guy from last night?” Newt’s eyes were boring into his soul, and Thomas shifted uncomfortably, not even sure of his answer.  _ Would he? _

“What?” He asked dumbly, which earned an eye roll from Newt. 

“Are you- are you interested in guys?” The bluntness of Newt’s question caught him off guard. He sat still for a moment, mouth slack. 

“Dude, I just wasn’t interested in hooking up with any- or all- of those girls,” He explained, eyes still cast downward.

“Really? They were really hot,” Newt pointed out. Thomas had to agree, but that didn’t mean anything. “Thomas, you would normally be all over that, what’s going on?”

“Nothing Newt, I’m fine. Can’t a dude want a break from all the mind blowing sex he has?” Newt rolled his eyes, punching Thomas in the shoulder. 

“I’m only wondering,” Newt emphasized, pushing himself off the couch. “Because who knows what he would have done to a delicate guy-virgin like you.” Newt laughed, heading towards his bedroom.

“I’m not delicate! And how would you know i’ve never had sex with a guy?” Newt didn’t answer, only walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

“Night Tommy!”

“I’m not delicate!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, this chapter has physical/domestic abuse in it, so if you're triggered by that, don't read it!

Thomas decided to skip out on telling Newt about the whole ‘gay thing’, and decided to tackle telling his parents first. So maybe it wasn’t a good plan, at all, but here he was, sitting in his car, on his parents driveway. 

 

To: Minho

This was a bad idea

 

From: Minho

Don’t go if you aren’t gonna be safe

 

From: Minho

Seriously Tomboy. I don’t want you to get hurt

 

To: Minho

I’ll be fine

 

Thomas sighed, turning his phone off and sliding it into his pocket. He turned the car off and climbed out, locking the doors as he went. He walked up to the front door, knocking loudly. His parents already knew he was coming, but it still wanted to be polite. 

“Thomas!” His mom squealed, throwing the door open and pulling him into her arms.

“Hey Ma,” He gave her a quick hug back, before stepping through the door, into the warm house.

How have you been, darling?” She asked, shutting and locking the door behind him. “How is Minho? Newt? Oh I miss that boy, you should bring him around next time.”  _ There’s not going to be a next time, Ma. _

His father appeared in the kitchen doorway, arms stretch out. “There he is. How are you, son?” 

Good,” Thomas responded with a nod, not moving towards his father. Thomas shuffled his feet nervously. 

“Well come on then, dinner is almost ready,” Thomas mother nearly dragged him into the kitchen, pushing him into one of the seats. “Are you still working at Minho’s bar?”

The first half of dinner went by smoothly, granted, Thomas hadn’t brought up the whole ‘gay’ thing yet. His mother made a wonderful steak dinner, which was his father’s favorite. His father had gotten a promotion at work, and his mother was preparing to retire. Thomas loved his parents, he really did, but he knew this would be the last time he spoke to them. 

“So Thomas,” His father spoke, wiping his mouth, and placing his napkin on the table. “You said there was something you wanted to talk to us about. Is there a new woman in the picture?” Thomas shook his head.

“No, there’s no girl.” Thomas muttered, suddenly very aware of how bad of an idea this was. “There won’t be a girl. Ever.” His parents looked at him with confused expressions. Thomas’s hands shook, and he could barely breath. He really wished Newt was standing beside him right now. “I’m gay.”

“That’s hilarious, Tom. Now what did you want to talk about.” His father gave a nervous chuckle, hand clenched tightly around his plate. 

“I’m serious, I love boys,” He saw his father move, and he quickly threw himself onto the floor. The plate shattered right where Thomas’s head had been, shards of ceramic raining down on him. Thomas quickly scrambled to his feet as his father walked over. He tried to get away, but his father grabbed him by the collar, pinning him to the wall. 

“Say that again,” His father dared him, fist raised. Thomas glanced to his mother, who stood, arms crossed, with a disapproving glare on her face. Thomas turned his eyes back to his father, glaring.

“I’m gay. And proud to say it,” His head snapped to the side as his father’s fist connected with his cheek. Thomas spat blood out, trying to push his father away. His father was a lot stronger than him. Thomas felt himself be lifted off the ground, and he was thrown across the room, smashing his head into the other wall. 

A glass shattered next to Thomas’s ear, and he felt some of the glass slice his face. “I’m gay,” He yelled, staggering to his feet. A punch to his ear sent him right back to the floor. His head was spinning, and he couldn’t lift himself to his feet. He cried out as a foot connected with his stomach. 

His father was swearing, yelling homophobic slurs, but Thomas could barely make them out. His ear was ringing, and all he wanted to do was get out the front door. Thomas was lifted to his feet, and he struggled to gain a solid footing again. A hard punch to his eye sent him flying down the hall, toward the front door. 

“It’s that Newt kid, isn’t it?”

“No,” Thomas yelled, determined to protect newt at all costs.

“I’ll kill him,” His dad threatened. Thomas flipped over, scrambling to his feet in an effort to get out of the house. His father kicked downwards on his back, causing him to fall flat, screaming in pain. His mother walked past him, opening the front door. Thomas was jerked to his feet, and thrown out the front door. His body tumbled down the front steps, and his head smacked against the concrete. 

His father walked out the front door, carrying a baseball bat. Thomas’s eyes went wide, and he curled into a ball shielding himself. His father walked past him, heading straight for Thomas’s car.

“No,” He coughed, trying to push himself to his feet. The bat smashed through his windshield, filling the car with glass. Thomas finally got up, staggering towards his father. “Stop, please.” His father turned around, shoving Thomas harshly. He fell backward, landing on his side, and hearing a crunch. It didn’t hurt though, and he realised it was his phone. 

His father pulled out his pocket knife, making quick work of the car’s tires. He then turned back to Thomas still brandishing the knife. Thomas’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled backwards until he backed into the fence. His father slashed out with the knife, making a deep cut in Thomas’s cheek. He cried out, begging for him to stop. The knife slashed his chest this time, not as deeply. He heard his mother cry out for his father to stop. 

Thomas turned to her, but could barely see out of his swollen eye. His father shoved the knife back in his pocket, pulling Thomas to his feet. He was led to the sidewalk and pushed away harshly. Thomas staggered slightly, but caught himself. 

He ran. He ran away as fast as he could. His good eye was blurry from tears, and he could feel his own sticky blood all over his body. He could taste it in his mouth. He slowed down about twenty minutes later, and pulled out his phone. He tried turning it on, but it was no use, the thing was totaled. 

He sighed, wiping some of the blood away from his mouth. He didn’t even know what time it was, but judging by the lack of people, it had to be pretty late. His whole body ached, and every step he took sent pain searing through his body. He was only ten minutes away from their apartment, so he kept pushing himself.

When he finally got there, he opened the door as quietly as he could, trying not to wake Newt. Apparently he didn’t have to worry, as both Newt and Minho were pacing the living room, looking panicked.

“We should call the cops.”

“No, he’d- Tomboy? There you are, we were worried sick abou-” Minho was cut off when Thomas stepped out of the dark hallway, and into the light.

“Thomas?” Newt ran forward, catching Thomas as he fell forward. “Tommy? What happened? Min, get the first aid kit. What happened Tommy?” Thomas’s vision was fading in and out completely, and his head was swimming. 

“Dad,” He managed to force the words out, wincing as wet cloths were applied to his cuts. He felt Minho cut his shirt open, and another cloth was pressed to his chest.

“Your dad did this? Why were you at your dad’s?” Newt asked worriedly. Thomas shot what he hopped was a grateful look in Minho’s direction, trying to thank him for not telling Newt.

“Dinner,” He groaned, body screaming in pain as he was lifted on to the couch. 

“Why did he do this?” Newt asked. He knew this wasn’t the first time Thomas’s father had done something like this, but he was well aware it had never been this bad before. Thomas’s mind was groggy, and he could barely focus on Newt’s words.

“Gay...” He was so out of his mind, he would probably confess his love to Newt right then and there if presented with the right opportunity. 

“What? Was he being homophobic again?” Thomas nodded. “Did he find out I’m gay?” Thomas shook his head quickly, causing his vision to black out fully. He felt himself being pulled into darkness.

“No me...” He managed to breathe out, just before he succumbed to the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry this is late! I really hope you guys like this chapter, I made it extra long, because it's a day late. And there is way more Newtmas in this chapter, don't worry!

Thomas awoke to darkness, so he couldn’t have been out for long. He blinked a few times, realising he was no longer on the couch, and this definitely was not his own bed. The room smelt like cigarettes and vanilla, and Thomas immediately felt comforted by that. He snuggled deeper into Newt’s bed, tentatively reaching his hand out to see if Newt was there with him. 

“Ow, Tommy. Take my bloody eye out, will ya?” Newt’s voice was scratchy this early in the morning, and Thomas loved it. He pulled his hand back quickly, stuffing it under the covers again.

“Sorry,” He muttered, about to scoot closer to Newt, when he realised he couldn’t. Well, he could, but it would be a little strange to just cuddle up to Newt at the ass crack of dawn. While in Newt’s bed, none the less. Thomas wondered why he was in Newt’s bed. “Newt?”

“Hmm?” Thomas felt the blonde stretch beside him, and then heard him sigh. Thomas felt the breath hit his face, and realised they were a lot closer than he originally thought. 

“Your breath smells terrible.”

Newt blew an exaggerated breath at Thomas, causing Thomas to crinkle his nose in disgust. Truthfully, Thomas didn’t care in the least how Newt’s breath smelt, but he wouldn’t tell Newt that. “Why am I in your bed?” Thomas asked rubbing at his eye. 

“Don’t you remember, darlin’? You admitted your gay love for me, and we had sex until the early hours of the morning, I can’t believe you could forget such a thing.” Newt said, obviously trying to sound offended. Thomas could hear his smirk though, and he smiled in Newt’s direction. 

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry I forgot. Here, let me kiss it better.” Thomas reached out and grabbed Newt’s face, making kissing noises as he dragged him closer. Newt yelled in protest, pinching at Thomas’s sides to make him stop. 

“Tommy- No- Ah, Tommy,” Newt squealed, finally getting Thomas to let go. Thomas smiled at him as they both lay catching their breaths. In the process, their legs had somehow got entwined, and Thomas made no move to fix that. Neither did Newt. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t die in the middle of the night.” 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Thomas laughed, throwing one arm over his head and blinking up at the ceiling. Newt’s leg was thrown over one of Thomas’s, and his foot was trapped under the other. The blanket was low on Thomas’s hips, and he realized he was shirtless. “You undressed me, maybe we really did have sex.”

Newt rolled his eyes, poking at Thomas’s side. Thomas winced at the close proximity his poke came to a bruise. “Ya look like shit, man.” Newt commented, eyes running across Thomas’s chest. Thomas knew he was staring at the bruises and cuts, but the act of his eyes dragging over Thomas’s torso did something to the brunette. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed.

“Feel like it to...” Thomas commented, lolling his head to the side so he could get a better look at Newt. “What time is it?” 

“Uh,” Newt sat up slightly, looking over Thomas to see the clock. “Ten,” He sighed, his head falling back onto the pillow. It definitely did not feel like ten, more like five. 

“Did you just wake up?” Thomas asked, rolling onto his side to face Newt, but keeping their legs together. Somehow the act pulled their bodies even closer together.

“Yeah, kind of. I couldn’t really sleep. But I didn’t actually get out of bed.”

“So you haven’t taken your meds?” 

“Thomas,” Newt protested, rolling his face into the pillow. “I don’t wanna get up yet. It’s  _ fine _ .” Thomas sighed, and pulled his body away from Newts. “Where-”

“I’ll be right back,” Thomas whispered, pulling the blankets up over Newt’s shoulder. He left the room, his body in enough pain for tears to spring to his eyes. His muscles were sore, and he could feel the cut on his chest ripping with every breath he took. He limped over to the kitchen, grabbing Newt’s pills and a glass of water as quickly as his body would let him. 

His left hand hurt the most. Everytime he tried to move it, a sharp pain would shoot all the way to his elbow. He sighed, putting the pills in his left hand, and grabbing the glass with his right. He tiptoed back into the room. 

Newt sat up at his entrance, smiling when he saw the meds. Thomas handed them to him, slipping under the covers again. Newt took his meds, and laid down facing Thomas and entwining their legs again. “Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” He paused, then laughed. “Literally. I would literally die without those.”

Thomas laughed, shaking his head. The blonde messed his hair up, before a solemn expression fell over his features. “Your dad-”

“Newt. It’s okay.” Thomas interrupted, not wanting to ruin their moment. 

“No, it’s not!” Newt was clearly angry at Thomas’s father. Thomas hadn’t seen Newt this angry since- well since he started those pills. “Thomas he nearly killed you. Look at you. We need to report him to the police.” Newt began to get out of the bed, reaching for his phone.

“No!” Thomas panicked, grabbing Newt’s shirt to keep him in place. “No, please. He’ll come around. Just give it time.” Newt looked at him sadly, before settling down again, his arm draped over Thomas’s waist.  

“Thomas, he hurt you.” Newt sighed, his other hand resting on the side of Thomas’s face. It made his heart race, and his mind go crazy. All he wanted to do was lean forward and press their lips together. 

“I’ll be okay,” Thomas shifted slightly, putting too much pressure on his hand. He winced, and held it up. “Except- maybe-” He pulled his hand out from under the cover, clutching it in the other. “I think it’s broken.” He sighed. Newt gently took it in his own hands, sitting up slightly.

“I think it’s just sprained,” He declared after careful examination. “I’ll get you some ice,” Newt slipped out of bed, and went to the kitchen. Thomas sighed as he watched the blonde leave. Well, more specifically, watched his ass leave. Just before Newt entered the room, Thomas remembered what his dad said.

“Newt,” The blonde made his way to the bed, sitting cross legged and pulling Thomas’s hand into his lap, covering it with an ice pack. “My dad- he thinks you turned me gay. He said- he said he’d kill you.” Newt scoffed at this, shaking his head. 

“That’s not the first death threat i’ve received, and it won’t be the last.” Newt shrugged, seemingly unfazed. Thomas sat up, careful not to move his hand. “Besides, we have more important issues at hand.”

“What’s that?” Thomas asked, wondering what could possibly be more important than Newt’s life. 

“Gosling or Reynolds?”

“What?” Thomas asked dumbly, taken aback by Newt’s question.

“Which Ryan is hotter, Gosling or Reynolds?” Newt asked, looking up at Thomas with a smirk. “Thomas, you just admitted that you’re gay, these are the pressing questions.”

“Gosling,” Thomas shrugged, smiling at Newt. 

“No way! Reynolds is way better!” Newt argued, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Gosling is blond! Blonds are way better looking,” Thomas pointed out, glancing at Newt’s hair. 

“Oh, so that’s why you like me better than Min, hey?” Newt teased, poking Thomas in the stomach.

“Please, Min is way hotter than you,” Thomas scoffed, trying to avoid eye contact so Newt couldn’t see his bluff. “Besides Minho’s like- all muscle and stuff. He could really take control, y’know,” He looked up to Newt with a wink.

“So you think I couldn’t take control?” Newt asked, his voice deeper than it was before. That went straight to Thomas’s cock.

“I  _ know  _ you couldn’t take control,” Thomas challenged, not really sure where this way going, but not really caring either. “I mean look at us, Newt. Clearly i’d be the top.” 

“Oh Tommy,” Newt was moving towards Thomas, ice pack forgotten. “Little  _ baby _ Tommy,” He pushed Thomas backwards, so that he was laying on the pillows again. Newt climbed on top of him, and Thomas was sure Newt could hear his heart beating. 

Newt lowered his face, his breath hitting the shell of Thomas’s ear. Thomas’s eyes went wide, before he slammed them closed, fists clenching at the sheet. Newt laughed quietly, and Thomas thought it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. Thomas didn’t even know what was going on at this point. Was this happening for real? Was Newt just playing with him? Thomas didn’t even care, because Newt’s entire body was pressed against his, and he couldn’t even remember how to breath. 

“I could have you begging for me to fuck you in seconds,” He whispered against Thomas’s ear, biting at his earlobe. Thomas’s breath caught in his throat, and he bit his lip, not daring to believe this was  _ actually _ happening. Newt shifted, grinding down on Thomas- hard. Thomas gasped loudly, throwing his head back. 

Newt climbed off him quickly, laughing loudly. Thomas stared up at him, completely dazed. “God Tommy, that was way too easy.” Newt laughed, climbing off the bed, and walking to the washroom. “I’m going to have a shower, want pizza for lunch?” Newt called as he disappeared through the door.

“Yeah,” Thomas managed to get out, before throwing both his hands over his face.  _ Damn it Newt _ . He thought to himself, his heart racing. He sat up slowly, careful of his hand, and made his way to his own bathroom. He quickly stripped his clothes off, not even bothering to look at his bruised body in the mirror. He stumbled into the shower, turning the water to hot, his heart still pounding. 

He rested his arm against the shower wall, breathing deeply. He thought of Newt. He didn’t even feel guilty as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking himself quickly, not bothering to take it slow. He thought of the words Newt whispered to him, almost at the edge already. 

The hot water hit the back of his neck, burning, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, moving his hand faster. He thought of how Newt felt pressed flush against him, grinding down on him. He was so close, it was embarrassing, his whole body shook as he pictured every inch of Newt.

He pushed himself over the edge as he thought of the feeling of their lips together. He bite his fist to keep himself quiet, panting heavily. He closed his eyes, his forehead resting against the tile wall. He quickly cleaned himself off, suddenly feeling guilty for thinking of Newt like that. Not too guilty, however, as Newt had literally just  _ grinded _ on him. 

Thomas climbed out of the shower, walking into his room while drying his hair off with a towel. He glimpsed at himself in the mirror as he passed, instantly regretting it. His body was bruised and swollen, he looked like he’d been hit by a car. He groaned to himself, and threw a pair of sweats on. 

“Pepperoni?” Newt asked Thomas the second he had exited his bedroom. Thomas nodded, trying to keep his eyes off Newt, who was also just wearing sweats. “Good, cause I already ordered.” Newt laughed, walking into the kitchen and grabbing them each a beer. 

Thomas took his happily, taking the cap off with his bottle-opener key chain. He raised the bottle to his lips, drinking almost half of it before setting it down again. “Thirsty?” Newt asked, smirking as he took a reasonably sized sip of his drink. Thomas nodded, and hopped onto one of their bar stools. “Minho called.”

“Did he? Wants me to pull a double or something?” Thomas asked, mindlessly poking at a dark bruise on his arm. 

“Actually, he said we both get the night off.” Thomas whipped his head in Newt’s direction, mouth hanging open. 

“No way!”

“Tommy, look at you.” Newt gestured to Thomas’s bruise splatter skin. “And someone has to be here to take care of you.”

“This is the best day ever!” Thomas said happily, finishing off the rest of his beer and going to the fridge for another.

“Slow down there, cowboy.” Newt laughed, grabbing Thomas’s bicep. “Wanna get high today? I got nothing else to do now, and I honestly could use it.” Newt shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. 

“Who would ever say no to blazin’ with Newt Issacs?” Thomas laughed, pushing Newt’s hand off and going to get another beer. 

“Okay,” Newt agreed with a laugh, sitting down on a bar stool. “But we’ll wait till after the pizza gets here.”

“What? Let’s get a head start, c’mon Newtie, please.” Thomas pouted, already sipping on his beer. 

“No, Thomas. What if the pizza guy is an undercover cop?” Newt suggested, smirking.

“I’m not scared, I’ve been caught plenty of times before.”

“My point exactly. If you get caught again. you’ll get arrested.” Newt scowled playfully, leaning against the bar. “And so will I for that matter.” Thomas groaned, Newt was right. As always. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you guys are going to like this chapter ;)

Thomas stumbled out of the kitchen, pizza box in one hand, a six pack in the other, and their freshly packed bowl balanced on the pizza. Newt was bent over in front of the TV, flipping through their movies. Thomas reached the coffee table, safely setting everything down, before he limped to where Newt was. 

“My hand is still killing me,” Thomas grumbled, wiggling his fingers. The sharp pain had disappeared now, replaced by a never-ending dull ache. Newt grumbled something in response, not paying attention to what Thomas was saying. Thomas sat down beside Newt, taking the pile of DVDs from his hands.

“I was thinking,” Newt sat down beside him, leaning his head on Thomas’s shoulder, and pulling out a few DVDs. “We could have a Ryan competition.” Thomas turned to him, confused. Newt sighed, pulling out The Notebook, and The Green Lantern. “We’ll see who really is better.”

“I promise you I wasn’t judging them based on their acting ability.” Thomas laughed, taking The Green Lantern from Newt’s hand, and sliding it into the DVD player. “Have you even seen The Notebook?” 

“No,” Newt shook his head, setting The Notebook down on top of the DVD player. Thomas did the same with the stack of DVDs. “Come sit,” Newt pulled Thomas to his feet, and over to the couch. 

Thomas opened the pizza box, while Newt pulled his feet onto the couch, tucking them underneath himself.  _ What? What is that? Who the fuck looks that cute? _ Thomas grabbed two slices, sat back on the couch, and handed one to Newt. 

“Thanks,” Newt mumbled through a mouthful. “You’re the best,” Thomas laughed, stuffing his own slice into his mouth. “Ew, Tommy, don’t be a pig.” Newt groaned around his already half finished slice. 

“Says you,” Thomas laughed, opening a couple beers, and passed one to Newt. The pair watched the movie for about ten minutes, before Thomas decided he couldn’t wait any longer. He reached forward, grabbing the bowl, and passing it to Newt. “Ladies first.”

“Patience is a virtue, Tommy,” Newt sighed, lighting the bowl. 

“What does that even mean?” Thomas wondered, trying to work it out in his mind as Newt took a long drag. He turned to Thomas, shrugging, and blew the smoke out in his face. Thomas coughed slightly, eyes burning at the sensation. “Thanks man, appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,  _ man, _ ” Newt laughed, using a fake American accent. Newt passed the bowl to Thomas, who took an equally long drag, letting it sit in his lungs for a minute. When he let the smoke out, he made sure it went straight into Newt’s face. 

An hour later, Thomas was lost in thought, staring at the screen, not registering a thing. “This movie sucks,” He grumbled, looking down at Newt, who had ended up with his head in Thomas’s lap. 

“You suck,” Newt countered, pressing a kiss to Thomas’s thigh. Thomas froze for a second, his hazy mind reminding him that Newt’s lips shouldn’t actually be that close to his groin. To be fair, Newt was usually more flirty, and touchy, when he was high. It didn’t stop Thomas’s heart from beating a mile a minute, however. “Want more?”

“Maybe once we start The Notebook,” Thomas shrugged, reaching for the last slice of pizza. “Want it?”

“All yours, love,” Thomas tried to ignore the pet name as he bit into the pizza. Either that was the strongest weed in all of history, or everything Newt was doing was causing Thomas’s blood to rush downwards. He guessed the latter. 

Thomas got up to change the movie, and Newt went to pack a new bowl. “You’re going to be such a Gosling boy after this movie,” Thomas called, making his way back to the couch. 

“Am not,” Newt denied, re-entering the room and sitting down on Thomas’s lap. 

“Get off, you’re too fat,” Thomas grumbled, placing his hands on Newt’s waist so the boy wouldn’t actually leave. Newt rolled his eyes and placed the bowl on the coffee table.

“Don’t kid yourself, Tommy, you love me,” Newt turned to face Thomas, pinching his cheeks. Thomas rolled his eyes, playing with the hem of Newt’s shirt. The movie began to play, and the pair settled more comfortably on the couch, with Newt between Thomas’s legs. 

“Tommy?” Newt asked half-way into the movie, when the bowl was half gone. 

“Hmm?” Thomas asked, his face pressed to Newt’s hair. 

“What made you decide, all of a sudden, that you were gay?” Thomas froze, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse in his mind. 

“I don’t know,” He muttered, tightening his grip around Newt’s waist. He honestly couldn’t come up with anything other than ‘I’m really fucking gay for your golden hair.’ 

“Tommy?” His voice was quiet this time. Newt turned around slightly, so that their eyes met. 

“Hmm?” Thomas’s eyes frantically roamed Newt’s face, trying to take in every inch of it, all at once. 

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”  _ What? _

“Yeah, Newt, we kissed last week,” Thomas’s eyes settled on Newt’s lips, desperately wanting to kiss them. “Or did you forget?”

“I meant for real,” Thomas’s eyes shot up to meet Newt’s. The boy looked curious, and slightly hopeful. Thomas could barely get a grasp on what was going on. 

“No,” Thomas shook his head, letting his fingers slip under the hem of Newt’s shirt. 

“Wanna try?” Newt asked, making Thomas’s heart stop altogether. “For practice, of course.”

“For practice, yeah,” Thomas nodded, watching as Newt’s eyes flicked between his own eyes and lips. “Yeah,” He agreed, his hand coming to rest on Newt’s lower back.

“Cool,” Newt breathed, letting Thomas’s hand guide him closer. 

“Awesome,” Thomas held his breath as their noses brushed. He waited for Newt to pull back laughing, to say it was all a joke. Instead he felt Newt’s warm lips pressed to his own. He quickly shut his eyes, pulling Newt closer. 

One of Newt’s hands flew to the back of Thomas’s neck, while the other dragged across his bare chest. Their lips moved together slowly, and Thomas was no longer intoxicated by the drug, only by Newt. Newt’s fingers pulled at his hair, and he gasped, opening his mouth. Newt quickly slid their tongues together, pushing Thomas back so he was laying on the couch. 

Thomas slid one hand to cup Newt’s face, desperately trying to pull him closer. The other slid down Newt’s back, coming to rest on Newt’s bum. He squeezed, causing Newt to jump and groan. “Cheeky,” Newt muttered against his mouth, before moving to press kisses to his jaw. Thomas bit his lip, hands running up and down Newt’s sides. 

Newt bit into his neck, just below his jawline, causing Thomas to let out an embarrassing moan. “Cheeky,” He mumbled back. Newt scoffed, continuing to attack Thomas’s neck. Thomas couldn’t handle it anymore, and dragged Newt’s face back up, melding their lips together. 

Newt gave one final tug at Thomas’s hair, causing him to moan again, before his sat back on his knees. Thomas stared up at his flushed cheeks as they both tried to catch their breaths. “Don’t think you need much practice, Tommy,” Newt laughed, sliding out from between Thomas’s legs. “You just gonna stare at me, or are you going to prove to me that Gosling is better?” Newt gestured to the TV. Thomas nodded, sitting up, casually throwing a pillow across his lap.

Less than an hour later, Newt was in Thomas’s arms again, this time crying his eyes out. Thomas ran his fingers through Newt’s hair, not much better off himself. “I don’t want to end up like that, Tommy,” Newt whispered into Thomas’s neck.

“Married?” Thomas asked, rubbing his thumb along Newt’s hip.

“I don’t want us to forget each other, Tommy.” Newt wrapped his arms tighter around Thomas’s neck, fingers going into his hair. “Please.”

“Newt,” Thomas tried to pull back, but Newt tightened his grip. “Newt, hey, look at me, man.” Newt pulled back just enough to meet Thomas’s eyes. “Newt, I promise you, we will  _ never _ end up like that. How could anyone ever forget a face this ugly?” Thomas patted Newt’s cheek playfully, while smirking.

“You’re right, Tommy,” Newt cleared his throat, letting his arms drop from Thomas’s neck. “I’d never forget a dumbass like you.” Thomas smiled down at Newt, very nearly leaning in to kiss him. 

“It’s nearly dinner time,” Thomas noted, checking his phone. “You hungry?”

“I’d honestly rather go to bed,” Newt admitted, getting to his feet  and stretching. Thomas shivered at the loss of contact, the cool air hitting his skin.

“Agreed,” Thomas nodded. Newt walked towards his room, peeling his sweats off as he went. Thomas quickly adverted his eyes, walking to the kitchen. His mind was still swimming from their kiss. He didn’t know what that meant for them. He really didn’t care, as long as he could do that again. And again. And again. 

Thomas grabbed a glass of water, and Newt’s pills, headed to the boy’s bedroom. He entered just as Newt was leaving the bathroom. He set the pills down on Newt’s beside table, watching as Newt slid under the covers.

“So?” Thomas asked, crossing his arms across his bare chest. “Gosling or Reynolds?”

“Thomas, the movie was great, but Reynolds is still better.”

“How?” Thomas asked, crouching down beside Newt. 

“Guess you could say I have a thing for brunettes.” Newt whispered, tugging on Thomas’s hair again. Thomas closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. “That really gets to ya, doesn’t it?” Thomas blushed, opening his eyes again, looking down at the bedsheets. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Thomas groaned, fully aware Newt would use that against him at every opportunity he could. Thomas stood up, walking to the door, and turning the light off. “Tommy?”

“What do ya want Newton?” 

“Sleep with me?” Now Thomas couldn’t deny Newt that request, could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Practice kisses are the best kind of kisses :D   
> Hope you liked it!  
> -Alex <3


	7. Chapter 7

Thomas jumped out of the cab, nearly flying towards the front door of their apartment building. He had been in Finland for the weekend, visiting his aunt. As much as he enjoyed seeing her, he’d missed Newt so much more. He threw open the door, picking his suitcase up by the handle. He took the stairs three at a time, only tripping once. 

He reached their floor, darting down the hallway. The door was unlocked when he got there, so he flung himself into their hallway, not caring how eager he looked. Much to his disappointment, Newt was not waiting in the hall, arms outstretched. Thomas shut the door behind him, and, leaving his suitcase in the hall, made his way into the living room. Newt’s bedroom door was closed, which was the only way Thomas knew Newt was in there.

He slowly opened the door, half expecting Newt to jump out and yell ‘surprise!’ Newt was laying in his bed, arms folded across his stomach. His headphones were blasting heavy music, and his eyes were closed. He hadn’t realised Thomas was home. 

Thomas walked across the room, crouching down beside the bed. He placed his hand over Newt’s, making the boy jump. Thomas smiled when Newt opened his eyes, but he didn’t get one in return. 

Newt blinked at him a few times, before shutting his eyes and going back to his music.  _ Is he mad at me?  _ Thomas thought, reaching up to pull the headphones away. “What?” Newt snapped, turning to face Thomas.

“Uh,” Thomas scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, looking for some kind of trickery on Newt’s face. There was none. “I’m home?”

“Congrats,” Newt huffed, trying to pull his headphones back over his ears. Newt stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. It all started to click into place. He ripped the headphones off Newt again, pulling them out of his reach. “What the fuck, Thomas?”

“When was the last time you ate?” Thomas asked, taking in Newt’s pale skin, and chapped lips. 

“I had breakfast.... yesterday,” Newt sighed, offended. He lay down in the bed again, pulling the blankets over his head.

“It’s almost dinner time, Newt!” Thomas exclaimed, running his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you take your meds?” 

“Who says I didn’t,” Newt’s muffled response came through the blanket, obviously not interested in talking to Thomas.

“Uh, how about your health? God, Newt, you can’t just skip out on your meds for three days. I texted you and everything.”

“Five days,” Came the muffled reply. Thomas’s heart sank. He made his way to the kitchen, pouring Newt’s meds into his hand, and grabbing a glass of water. Newt hadn’t had an episode in almost a year, he was doing so well. Thomas wanted to cry.

He entered the room again, pulling the blankets away from Newt’s body. “Take them,” He insisted, shoving the pills at Newt.

“No,” Newt turned away from the pills. Thomas pulled him up so he was in sitting position. “No! Thomas I don’t need them anymore.”

“What? Of course you do, Newt.”

“No! The doctor said I’m doing better. If i’m doing better, I don’t need those anymore.” Thomas sighed, sitting beside Newt on the bed.

“Newt,” He took a deep breath, setting the pills and water on the bedside table. “Newt, you know you need them. You know they’re helping you get better. If you don’t take them, they can’t help you.”

“I don’t want to take them anymore!” Newt yelled, knocking the water and pills onto the floor. Thomas grabbed his arms, pulling them to Newt’s body to keep him from causing anymore damage. “I don’t want some stupid drugs to control my life! I hate it! I hate the meds! I hate the damn depression! Thomas I hate myself.” 

“Newt,” Thomas groaned, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. “Why? Why now? You were doing so good, man,” 

“Whatever, Thomas, give me my headphones back.”

“Newt, we need to talk about this,” Thomas sighed, turning to face him. 

“Get out,” Newt demanded, shoving Thomas’s side. “Thomas just leave.” Thomas felt his throat tightening. He clenched his hands into tight fists, nails digging into his palms. “Thomas leave!”

“Newt,” Thomas breathed, tears pricking at his eyes. “Newt, you wonderful, amazing boy,”

“Oh, don’t start trying to make me feel better. Nothing you say will make this any better Thomas.” Newt snarled, shoving Thomas again.

“I was away for three days. Three  _ fucking _ days Newt, and I-”

“Can’t believe I slipped up. I get it Thomas, just leave.”

“And I missed you so much it’s embarrassing.” Thomas admitted, his hands shaking. Newt rolled his eyes, but didn’t make further movement to push Thomas away. “I missed talkin’ to ya, y’know? I missed our conversations.”

“You could have ‘our’ conversations with anyone. Go talk to Minho if you’re lookin’ for a friend,  _ Tomboy _ ,” Newt snarled, sliding back down in the bed. 

“I fell up the stairs at my aunt’s, and everyone rushed to make sure I was okay. I actually missed your dumbass laughter. I missed the way you make fun of me for the most trivial things, Newt.” Thomas was pouring his entire soul out, and if he hadn’t known better, he’d probably be admitting his love for the boy.

“I missed our midnight movies. I missed not cuddling with your ugly face. I missed every fucking thing about you, Newt. I was gone for  _ three _ days.” Thomas fell back on the bed, trapping Newt’s legs under his back. 

“I hate you too, y’know.” Newt muttered, glaring down at Thomas.

“Can you please take your meds? I just poured my heart out to ya, and it’d be nice if I got one nice thing out of it.” Thomas mumbled, trying to grab for one of Newt’s hands. Newt pulled it away harshly, shoving Thomas off of him.

“If I do, will you stop  _ fucking _ flirting with me? God, Thomas just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I like every single guy!” Thomas’s heart was beating way too fast, the tears starting to slip down his cheeks. “Oh, stop with the tears. I’m not some toy that you can experiment with Thomas!”

“Is that what this is all about? That ‘practice kiss’ that  _ you _ initiated?” Thomas felt himself getting angry. He knew better than to take Newt’s actions to heart, but he just couldn’t help it. 

“God, you’re so stupid!” Newt yelled, throwing the covers off himself and stalking out of the room. Thomas followed him to the kitchen, where he watched Newt take out his pills. “I was high, Thomas. So were you. Look, I’m sorry I did that, but you’re making it into something more than it has to be.” Newt swallowed his pills, and turned to Thomas angrily. 

“You’re no better than that guy at the bar, y’know that?” That hit Thomas hard. Hard enough to make his breath catch in his throat. “You- you- God, Thomas I don’t even know! It’s like you’re trying to hurt me! You can’t just- you just can’t do this to me!”

“Do what, Newt?” Thomas tried to keep his voice calm, but it came out shaky nonetheless. 

“Whatever,” Newt snarled, shouldering past him. “Leave me alone.” He walked into his room, slamming the door behind him. 

Thomas fell to the floor, his knees screaming in pain as they made contact with the tiles. He fell forward, his forehead hitting the floor. He rolled onto his side, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself. He reached for his phone, dialing Newt’s psychiatrist.

“Thomas? Is everything alright?”

“No,” Thomas half whispered-half sobbed, he pulled at his hair, trying to find something to center himself. “He’s been off his meds for five days. He’s- he’s really bad.”

“How bad, Thomas?”

“Like the night before he jumped, bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys, I am so sorry :( Poor Thomas!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay you guys, I hope this makes up for that terrible last chapter! It's extra fluffy, just for you!

A week passed, and Newt was getting better again. Thomas wouldn’t say he was back to his normal self yet, but it was definitely an improvement. He laughed at a _stupid_ joke Thomas made that morning, so Thomas counted that as a win. Most importantly, he was back on his meds.

It was three in the morning, and Thomas was lying on his bed, aimlessly staring at the ceiling. As much as he wanted to admit he was happy about Newt, he was terrified. Thomas was terrified that Newt was going to try to sneak out in the middle of the night, and do something stupid.

“You awake?” Newt’s voice floated through the apartment, not loud enough to wake him, if he had in fact been asleep, but just loud enough for Thomas to hear.

“Yeah,” He called back.

“Do you-” Newt cleared his throat. “Can you come here?” Thomas was on his feet in a second, moving to Newt’s room. When he got there, he lingered in the doorway, remembering Newt’s words. It wasn’t like he was the only one flirting, but if Newt wanted him to stop, he would.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Thomas asked, his voice hoarse.

“Can you come lay with me?” Newt’s voice was timid. He looked like a little kid in his bed.

“I thought you didn’t want that anymore.”

“Tommy,” Newt pleaded. Thomas tried to ignore the blood rushing downwards at the plea. He walked forward, crawling onto the bed. He laid on top of the blanket, a respectable distance away. “Tommy.”

“What?”

“Get under here,” Newt pulled the covers up between them. Thomas sighed, before joining Newt under the covers. Newt immediately curled against Thomas’s side, resting his head on Thomas’s chest. Thomas could feel the wetness on his cheeks. Newt had been crying.

“Why-”

“I’m sorry,” Newt whispered, his hand forming a fist on Thomas’s bare chest. “I’m sorry I said all that bullshit to you. I didn’t mean it. You’re nothing like that guy, Thomas. You would never hurt me.” Thomas ran his fingers through Newt’s hair, trying to sort out his thoughts in his head.

One one hand, he wanted Newt to understand how much he’d hurt Thomas. He wanted him to know how terrible it felt to be compared to a guy who had tried to hurt Newt so badly. On the other hand, he was head-over-heels for this boy, and would do anything to get him back.

“I’m sorry I overstepped your boundaries,” Thomas admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “I was trying to do the same stuff we did before, but I guess it’s different when you’re both gay, huh?”

“No, Thomas. I-I just-I didn’t understand your intentions. That’s not your fault though, I should have understood that you were just acting the way you normally do.” Newt whispered, tears no longer falling onto Thomas’s chest.

“Y’know, for a top, you sure like to be cuddled a lot.” Thomas teased, poking Newt’s shoulder.

“Oh shut it, Tommy, you love it,” Newt laughed, snuggling into Thomas’s side. Thomas allowed himself to fall asleep after that, knowing Newt would still be there when he woke up.

\----------

“Let’s go,” Newt called from the kitchen. Thomas looked in the mirror, trying desperately to fix his hair. He hadn’t had time for a shower that morning, as the pair had slept in after their early morning talk. Thomas sighed, knowing his hair wouldn’t get any better. He grabbed his jacket from his desk, leaving the room.

“I’m comin’, i’m comin’,” Thomas laughed, making his way to the door where Newt was standing impatiently.

“I’m trying to do something nice for you Thomas, at least be on time.” Newt sighed, tapping his foot as Thomas slipped his shoes on.

“Which you do not need to do, by the way,” Thomas pointed out as he was hauled from their apartment.

“Thomas, I feel like shit for what I did. Let me try to make it up to you,” Newt pulled him down the hallway to the stairwell, “Please.”

“I already forgive you,” Thomas told him as they walked down the stairs. “I know you didn’t mean it.” Newt led him out of the apartment building, and down the sidewalk. “Where are we going, anyways?”

“You’ll see, it’s a surprise.”

“So you’re taking me on a date then?” Thomas teased, knocking his elbow into Newt’s arm. Newt huffed in response, but said nothing as they continued on their way. “The least you could do is hold your date’s hand.”

To his surprise, Newt’s fingers slipped between his, causing his heart to race a million miles a minute. “Better? Or did you need me to tie your shoes and wipe your ass too?” Thomas rolled his eyes, following as Newt pulled him down a new street.

“Are we going for ice cream?” Thomas asked, knowing the street well. There were only a few shops down this street that Thomas had actually been to. The Ice Cream Shoppe, which was the best in all of England. The Tattoo Parlor, which Thomas had been to twice, once with Newt, and once with Minho. He got inked both times. And the Florist, which Newt dragged him into once because ‘Tommy I need those sunflowers right now.'

“Depends, would you rather have ice cream, or a new tattoo?”

“Definitely ice cream, though i’ve been thinking of getting another,” Thomas told him as they passed the Tattoo Parlor.

“Oh yeah? What are you thinking?” Newt asked as they reached the Ice Cream Shoppe. Newt pulled the door open, and a little bell rang out, signaling their arrival.

“I was thinking something geometric on my ribs,” Thomas explained as they approached the counter.

“Oh hello dears, the regular?” Asked the elderly woman who ran the Shoppe. Newt nodded eagerly, the lady flashing them both a heart-warming smile. “Thomas, I haven’t seen that lovely girl around lately. What was her name? Beverly? Brittnay?”

“Brenda,” Thomas corrected, nearly rolling his eyes at the thought of his ex-girlfriend. She was a disaster. “No, I’m not seeing her anymore, Mrs. Lewis.”

“Is that so?” Mrs. Lewis asked, handing Thomas his double fudge ice cream cone. “Does that have anything to do with the fact you two are holding hands?” She winked at Thomas as she began to scoop out Newt’s butterscotch ice cream.

“It’s an apology date, Mrs. Lewis.” Newt explained, giving Thomas’s hand a gentle squeeze.Thomas’s head started spinning. “I was an awful best friend, so I have to buy him ice cream.” Mrs. Lewis handed the bowl to Newt and began ringing up their order.

“Best friends hey?” She laughed. Newt handed over the money with one of his award-winning smiles. “I’ve always thought you two could be something more.” Thomas blushed, tearing his eyes away from Newt immediately.

“Thanks Mrs. Lewis,” Newt said, leading Thomas over to the retro bar stools that sat along the window.

“Of course dearies, have fun on your apology date!” She gave them a wave a disappeared into the back.

“Geometrics are sick. When you planning on getting it?” Newt asked, taking a spoonful of his ice cream.

“I dunno, I got it all planned out and everything, just gotta actually get there,” Thomas shrugged, lazily licking his cone as he watched the passersby outside the window.

“Why don’t we go after we’re done eating?” Newt suggested. Thomas’s eyes flicked to the Tattoo Parlor, then back to Newt.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Newt shrugged, using his spoon to steal a bit of Thomas’s ice cream. “I’ve been thinkin’ about getting one too.” He offered a spoonful of his own ice cream to Thomas, who happily accepted. “No time like the present.”

“What are you gonna get?” Thomas asked, swallowing the sweet ice cream.

“Watercolor. Here,” Newt pointed to his left shoulder, and smiled up at Thomas. “I’m really excited now.”

They finished their ice creams rather quickly, and left the Shoppe. “You ready?” Thomas asked, nearly dragging Newt to the Parlor.

“Of course I am, idiot.” Newt smiled. Thomas’s heart swelled, knowing how good Newt was doing. Thomas opened the door, letting Newt walk in past him.

“Oh god, trouble’s here!” Their old high school friend, Aris, called from the front counter. He was doodling a few images on a scrap of paper, head resting on his hand. It looked fairly empty, so Thomas figured they were taking walk-ins.

“Hey Aris,” Thomas greeted, walking up to the counter with Newt.

“What can I do for you boys?”

“We’re both looking to get a new one,” Newt explained, and Aris smiled.

“Thank god, I thought you two had given up on the tattoo business, it’s been what, two years?” Thomas nodded, tracing the tattoo on his right forearm. It was a low-detailed sunflower that he had gotten after the Florist stopped selling sunflowers. Newt had been devastated, and Thomas thought he was being cheeky at the time. Turns out he was being so in love it hurt.

                                                                                   

“Right, let’s see what we can get draw up for you. What were you thinking, Tom?” Thomas blushed at the nickname, having kicked it after middle school. Aris and his girlfriend Teresa were the only two that still called him that.

“A geometric arrow,” Thomas explained. “On my ribs,” He pointed out where he wanted, and Aris rolled his eyes.

“How original Tom,” He got to work drawing. A few minutes later, he seemed pleased with himself. “How about this?” He held up the drawing, so both Thomas and Newt could take a look.

                                                                                      

“That’s great man,” Thomas nodded, looking to Newt for his opinion.

“I love it, Tommy.” Newt smiled, looking at Thomas.

“Alright, let’s get you started while I work on Newt’s,” Aris suggested, walking to the back room which was concealed by a curtain. “Teresa, would you like to help out our young Tom Murphy?”

“Tom!” Teresa flew from the back room, arms outstretched. She wrapped him in a tight hug, her dark hair getting in Thomas’s face. “I missed you! Hey Newt!” She moved to hug him next.

“Hey Teresa,” Thomas smiled, taking the drawing from Aris, and handing it to her.

“Sweet. Let’s get going then!” She led him to the back room, setting up a station. Half and hour, and a whole lot more pain than Thomas expected, he was finally done. He looked at the tattoo in the mirror, smiling to himself.

“It looks great, Teresa, thanks,” He told her, pulling his shirt back on. They walked back to the counter, and he paid for both his, and Newt’s tattoos. He sat down in the waiting room, and pulled his phone out. He scrolled through Facebook for a few minutes, before closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before his was sound asleep.

“Look!” Thomas woke with a start to Newt’s face only inches from his. “Look Tommy, isn’t it beautiful?”

Thomas smiled, looking at the tattoo. It was stunning. The basic outline of a man, with blue watercolor cascading from his fringe, across his body, and off the drawing. Yellows and purples covered the man’s arm, creating small flowers over his skin, the largest of which, was a sunflower. “Damn it Newt, I love it.”

                                                                                           

“Do you?” Thomas nodded, and Aris came over to tape it up. “I didn’t get to see yours, Tommy,” Newt pouted.

“You can see it later,” Thomas promised, ruffling Newt’s hair. “Thanks again, you guys!” Thomas called as they left the Parlor with all the supplies Aris gave them. The pair walked down the street, back towards their apartment. Thomas felt Newt’s hand slip into his again, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Gotta treat my date right,” Newt explained.

“Newt?”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks- for today, I mean I had a really good time,” Thomas smiled, swinging their hands between them.

“So, am I forgiven?”

“Of course you are, Newt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god! They went on a date! They held hands! Somebody hold me I'm freaking out! <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to emotional roller coaster 101, please ensure that you keep your kleenex box near your person at all times.

**From: Minho**

**Can you guys come in early tonight? Some big company booked us out... they’re bringing in dancers and everything.**

 

Thomas sighed, throwing his pillow over his face.

 

**To: Minho**

**How early?**

 

“Newt?” He called, hoping it would wake the blond. When no reply came, he wasn’t surprised. “Newt!” He hollered. A loud  _ thump _ rang out from Newt’s room, followed by a groan of pain.

“Whataya want?” Newt called back, his voice hoarse with sleep. Thomas’s phone buzzed again.

 

**From: Minho**

**Can you be here in two hours?**

 

“Min wants us there in two hours. Some company booked us tonight,” Thomas called back, typing a quick reply to Minho. Thomas heard soft footsteps approaching his door. It opened to reveal a sleepy, boxer-clad Newt. Newt crawled into Thomas’s bed, snuggling deeply into the covers. 

“Tell him we’re having hot sex, and we won’t be able to make it at all,” Thomas obliged, texting Minho Newt’s suggestion. Newt snuggled up to Thomas’s side, tracing over the new tattoo. “I like it.”

“Thanks, yours is way cooler,” Thomas told him truthfully, running his fingers over the watercolor. “I’m not brave enough to go for a colored one.” Newt’s fingertips continued to move across his ribs, barely touching the tattoo anymore. 

Thomas was beyond confused, and knew he should be angry with Newt. Newt explicitly told him to stop flirting, and then he goes and does this. Thomas really, really wanted to be angry with Newt for it, but dear God, the boy was cuddled up to him in bed right now. 

 

**From: Minho**

**Tell Newton there are male dancers coming too. They’re turning us into a bloody strip club for the night!**

 

Thomas showed Newt the text, smirking when Newt’s face lit up. “We gotta find you a hot stripper, Tommy.” Newt laughed, pulling them both out of bed. “We need to figure out what you’re going to wear.” He turned to Thomas’s wardrobe, flipping through the shirts.

“I am  _ not _ hooking up with a stripper!” Thomas protested, trying to catch the shirts Newt was throwing to the floor.

“No, you’re going to hook up with a cute boy, after he’s off work,” Newt told him, pulling three shirts out of the wardrobe. “The fact he is a stripper is besides the point.” Newt held the shirts out to him. Two were button up, one a dark blue, and one a light purple color. The other was a plain white t-shirt that Newt knew was too tight for Thomas. 

Thomas took the shirts, putting them down on the bed. He walked to the washroom to brush his teeth. Newt followed him, leaning against the doorframe. “Which one do you think?”

“None of them! I’m not hooking up with a stripper!” Thomas protested after he had spit out the minty paste. 

“Fine, hook up with a customer then, you still need to look hot,” Newt shrugged, going back to look at the shirts. “So pick.”

“Whichever one you think is sexiest,  _ dear _ .” Thomas laughed, following Newt out of the bathroom. 

“This, obviously,” He threw the t-shirt at Thomas, before pulling out a pair of black skinny jeans. “And these.”

“These make my ass look huge, Newt.” Thomas laughed, accepting the clothes from him.

“Exactly, if you’re going to be a bottom, you gotta look the part.” Newt shrugged. “Now come help me,” Newt dragged him towards his own bedroom. 

“Who says I’m a bottom?” Thomas asked, going to Newt’s wardrobe and flipping through the shirts there. 

“Well if i’m the top, you have to be the bottom!” Newt called from the bathroom, where he was most likely brushing his own teeth.

“Why can’t we both be tops?” Thomas laughed, picking out a few of his favorite shirts. Not his favorite, however, as he didn’t want to let the world see that gem, just yet. 

“We can’t have two tops sharing a flat, Tommy. Besides, have you seen your ass?”

“Oh my god,” Thomas groaned as Newt came out of the bathroom, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

“What have you picked out for me,  _ darling _ .” Thomas rolled his eyes, handing Newt a selection of four shirts. Newt surveyed them, trying to decide between the white button up, and the grey and red t-shirt. “Which one do you like better?” 

“Hmm... the white always looks nice if you leave it unbuttoned a bit, really shows off your collarbones.” Thomas explained. “But the t-shirt is tight enough that it shows off your pecs. And it’s short enough to show some skin when you raise your hands.” Thomas blushed, realising that was probably  _ too _ much information.

“Wow Tommy, been paying attention, have ya?”

“Yeah, just can’t stop staring at you.” Thomas admitted, crossing his arms. “So which’ll it be?”

“I reckon the t-shirt will show off the tat better, hey?” Newt asked, looking at his tattoo. Thomas nodded, before hanging up Newt’s other shirts. “Wow Tommy, so domestic,” Newt winked, making Thomas’s heart flutter.

“That’s me, your domestic little shithead.”

“Sounds about right.”

\-------------------------

The music was pounding, sweaty bodies packed into the bar. _This was a crazy staff party,_ Thomas thought, wondering what type of company would hire dancers. It was already nine o’clock, but Thomas figured he wouldn’t be getting home until four or five in the morning.

“Hey Tomboy,” Minho approached with a large smile, his grey shirt unbuttoned almost all the way. “After Newtie-boy gets back, you two can take twenty.” Thomas nodded, mixing up a drink for the man who appeared to be the CEO of whatever company this was. It was only two minutes later when Newt approached with his empty tray.

“Hey Tommy, pour me one, will ya?” Thomas nodded, pouring two shots and handing one to Newt. They knocked them back at the same time.

“Minho says we can take twenty, now.” Thomas explained, slipping out from behind the bar. 

“Perfect!” Newt spun around, so that they were both facing the crowd of people. “See those two guys?” Newt pointed to the far side of the bar, where two boys about their age were dancing together. One was Thomas’s height, with blond hair, and the other was a slightly taller brunette. They were both very attractive.

“I think they’re together, Newt, don’t get any ideas.” Thomas rolled his eyes. Newt sighed, putting his arm around Thomas’s waist.

“I realise that, dip-shit. I was saying we propose a trade.” Thomas cocked an eyebrow, looking between Newt and the two boys. “We have twenty minutes, a lot can get done.” Newt winked at him, before pulling him towards the boys. “You can have blondie.”

They made their way through the crowd, basically dancing on people to get to the couple. The two boys saw them approaching, and turned to them. The brunette threw his arm over the blond’s shoulder, kissing his temple. “Hey there,” Newt said when they approached. 

“Hey boys,” The blond replied, eyeing Thomas up and down. Thomas felt a blush begin to rise, but his confidence soared. “Name’s Luke, and this here’s Ryan.”

“Thomas,” He smirked, letting his eyes rake over the blond. “This is Newt.”

“Newt?” Ryan asked, reaching his hand out, and placing it on Newt’s bicep. Thomas felt a slight surge of jealousy, but the amount of alcohol he had consumed through the night pushed it away. “I like it.” Newt blushed,  _ actually blushed _ at Ryan’s comment. 

“Thanks,” Newt’s hand traveled from Thomas’s waist, up his back, over his neck, to tangle in his hair. He pulled slightly, causing Thomas’s to shift and lean his head toward Newt. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes until we have to go back to work.”

Thomas felt a cool hand slip into his, pulling him forward and away from Newt. He found himself tucked under Luke’s arm, his cool fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. Thomas looked at Newt, who stared back with a mischievous glint. He smirked at Thomas before leaning in and whispering, his hot breath hitting the shell of Thomas’s ear.

“Don’t forget about me, babe,” Thomas rolled his eyes and pulled back, but was stopped by Newt’s hand on his shoulder. Newt’s dark eyes were shining, and Thomas knew he was beyond drunk. “Promise?” Newt whispered. Thomas nodded, watching Newt intently. Newt leaned in, and pressed a chaste kiss to Thomas’s lips. “Later, babe.” He waved over his shoulder, before dragging Ryan into the back room.

_ Wait, what the fuck? _

“C’mon then, hotstuff,” Thomas felt himself being pulled towards to washroom, Luke’s hand creeping under his shirt, kissing his neck. The reached the washroom, and Luke locked the door behind them. “So, what do you want to do?” Luke asked, nails scraping down Thomas’s chest.

Thomas let his hands settle on Luke’s waist, toying with the hem of the boys shirt. He leaned down, pressing his lips roughly against Luke’s, backing him into the wall. “Not sex,” Thomas murmured, nipping at the boy’s lip. This wasn’t Thomas’s first hook up, especially not in this bathroom, but it was his first hook up with a guy, so sex was not high up on his priority list.

“Fair enough,” Luke said back, breaking the kiss to pull Thomas’s shit over his head. “Does sucking you off count as sex?” Luke pulled his own shirt off, and Thomas took a minute to admire his wide shoulders and toned abs. Newt had picked well. “Because I would really like to do that.”

Luke flipped Thomas around, so that his back was now pressed against the cold wall. “I-I’ve never-” Luke ground his hips against Thomas’s making him gasp. It was so different, and so much better, grinding on a guy, then a girl. 

“Got blown?” Luke’s fingers were already making quick work of Thomas belt.

“Of course I have,” Thomas laughed, pulling Luke’s mouth to his again. He swiped his tongue along Luke’s bottom lip, the boy opening his mouth excitedly. “I’ve never been with a guy.” Thomas admitted, hands roaming all over the boy’s body, finally deciding to cup his ass. 

“Guess it’s your lucky day,” Luke’s fingers undid the button on Thomas’s jeans. He slipped his hand into Thomas’s pants, tugging on his cock. Thomas gasped, throwing his head back. Luke’s mouth left Thomas’s lips attacking at his neck. “Don’t worry about repaying the favour,” His lips were traveling over his collarbone and down his chest now. “Sucking dick is kind of my thing.”

Luke dropped to his knees, pulling Thomas’s jeans and boxers down with him. Thomas’s phone fell out of the pocket, skidding across the floor. Thomas’s mind, which was normally going a thousand miles a minute, couldn’t focus on anything other than the sensation of Luke’s lips kissing and biting at his lower stomach. Thomas didn’t know if his sober self would be disappointed at Thomas for hooking up with a random person in this bathroom, yet again, or impressed that he could actually focus on someone other than Newt. He also didn’t care.

Hot breath hit the tip of his cock, making him gasp. He clutched Luke’s hair, tugging at it slightly. Luke licked up the side of his cock, before swallowing the whole thing down. Thomas groaned loudly, his hips involuntarily bucking forward. Luke’s hand settled on his hip, securing him against the wall. 

Thomas looked down to see the blonde head bobbing on his cock, instantly reminding him of Newt. He moaned loudly, trying to thrust his hips forward again. Luke pulled back, sucking on the head. He looked up, making eye contact with Thomas.

His green eyes were blown wide, and glossy. He blinked at Thomas, innocence washing over his entire person, despite the explicit act. Clearly, it was 'kind of his thing'. Thomas felt Luke’s tongue run along his slit, and his free hand grasped his shaft, pumping him quickly. 

Thomas felt a familiar heat growing in his lower stomach. He was so close already, making him feel like he was sixteen again, and a girl touched him for the first time. This was so, so much better, and Thomas didn’t think he could last much longer.

“I’m close-fuck.” He moaned, letting his head fall back against the wall. Luke pulled his mouth off, his hand dropping down to toy with Thomas’s balls. 

“Moan his name,” Luke told him, swallowing him down again. Thomas screwed his eyes shut, pulling harder at the blond hair.

“N-Newt,” He gasped, feeling his ogasm building. The blond hummed around his cock, sending pulsating vibrations through Thomas’s body. “Oh, God Newt, I’m going to cum.” The blond bobbed his head faster. Thomas saw stars. “Newt!” He came down the boy’s throat, body convulsing with his orgasm. 

The lips around his cock were overstimulating, so he pulled Luke off. “You sure you don’t want me to repay the favour?” Thomas asked, dazed.

“You need to be back in five minutes,” Luke told him, smashing their mouths together again. Thomas could taste himself as their tongues slid together. He liked it a lot. “Besides,” Luke whispered against his mouth. “I think Newt would kill me if he wasn’t your first.” Luke gave him one last, long kiss, before they both started to get dressed. 

Thomas unlocked the door, and the pair began to walk out. “Speak of the devil,” Luke whispered, one hand on Thomas’s lower back. Thomas’s eyes moved to the door of the back room, where Ryan and Newt were walking out of. Newt’s shirt was wrinkled, lips swollen, hair a mess. “Shall we make him jealous?” Thomas felt himself nodding before he could even comprehend anything. 

Luke pulled him forward, smashing their lips together in a heated kiss. Thomas saw Newt’s shocked expression, before he closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the kiss. “Sorry Romeo, Juliet’s gotta get back to work,” Thomas felt himself being tugged away from Luke, a familiar pair of arms slipping protectively around his waist.

Thomas gave Luke a quick smile, before he was pulled away from him. Newt pulled him into the back room, making Thomas raise his eyebrows. “We need to get back-”

Newt’s hands were on his cheeks, pulling him forward, pressing their lips together. It was soft and sweet, nothing like he’d ever experience with Newt. Newt’s fingers traced every inch of his face as their lips moved softly together. Thomas tentatively reach his hand out, placing it flat against Newt’s chest.  _ He’s drunk. _ His brain was screaming,  _ He’s drunk, he doesn’t mean it. _

Newt pulled back quickly, not looking at Thomas. He shouldered past him, making for the door. “Don’t go,” Thomas whimpered, the words sounding pathetic, but he couldn’t help it. 

“We have to get back to work, Tommy,” Newt left the room, not turning around. Thomas wanted to scream. He spun quickly, grabbing the first bottle off the shelf beside him. He gripped the neck and swung it at the wall like a baseball bat. Shards of glass exploded everywhere, many of them sticking into his hand. It felt good. He needed another bottle.

Strong, muscular arms wrapped around him, pulling him away from the shelf, and the broken glass. He was spun around, coming face to face with Minho. He felt his bottom lip start to quiver, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh, Tomboy...” Minho wrapped his arms around him again, engulfing him into a much needed hug. 

Thomas felt his knees give out, and they both sunk to the floor, Thomas clinging to Minho for support. “Shh, Tomboy. Hey, you’re okay.” Minho whispered into his hair, rubbing his hands up and down Thomas’s back. Thomas sniffled, trying to bury his face deeper into Minho’s neck. “Let me take a look at your hand.”

Thomas pulled back, still sobbing. Minho took his injured hand in both of his, examining the cuts carefully. “I’m going to pull this one out, but it’ll bleed. Let’s go upstairs.” Thomas nodded, letting Minho pull him to his feet. He tucked himself under Minho’s arm, letting the other boy hold his hand steady. Minho pulled him out of the room, walking toward the stairs to his flat. 

“Thomas?” Thomas buried his face deeper into Minho’s shoulder, not wanting to see the blond boy whose voice was laced with concern.

“Go away Newt.” Minho shot, tightening his grip on Thomas as they continued moving. 

“Min, he’s bleeding, what’s going on?”

“I said go away.” Minho said through gritted teeth. They were almost at the bottom of the stairs, Newt following closely behind.

“No! If Tommy’s hurt, I need to make sure he’s okay-” Minho’s hands left Thomas, his body pulling away. Thomas turned around just in time to see Minho’s fist connect with the side of Newt’s face, sending him onto the floor. 

“Stop!” Thomas yelled, stepping forward. Minho held up a hand to stop him, and Thomas obeyed.

“Fuck off, Newt! You’re a pathetic piece of shit, you know that?” Minho was seething, breathing heavily. Newt looked heartbroken and confused. Thomas knew how those words would affect Newt, but he was so hurt right now, he wanted Newt to feel the pain. “Now get back to work before I fire your sorry ass for workplace harassment.” 

Minho spun on his heel, taking Thomas under his arm again. He led them up the stairs, and unlocked his flat’s front door. They were both shaking so hard, it must look like they were in thirty below weather. They walked straight to the bathroom, Minho picking Thomas up and setting him on the counter.

Minho turned the tap on, pulling Thomas’s hand under the water. He winced at the icey temperature. “That shit-head.” Minho muttered, grabbing a cloth and carefully wiping the blood away. “Scumbag. Ready?” Thomas nodded, closing his eyes as Minho’s fingers held the piece of glass.

Minho tugged at it harshly, blood spurting from the cut. Thomas winced again as the water flowed into it. “I want to hate him,” Thomas admitted, pressing his back against the mirror. “I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to move on.”

“Why don’t you? You don’t need that kind of bull in your life, Tomboy.” 

“I love him,” Thomas sobbed, fresh tears falling down his face. “I love him so fucking much, Minho.” Minho sighed, turning the tap off. He grabbed a few bandages from the medicine cabinet, wrapping Thomas’s hand tightly. 

“Thomas,” Minho pulled him off the counter, leading him towards his bedroom. “God Thomas, I know you do.” Minho pulled back the covers on his bed, letting Thomas slip under. He wasn’t in the mood to argue for the couch. “It’ll be okay, eventually. I swear you two are going to get married and have a million babies.” 

Thomas laughed lightly, wiping away his tears. “A million sounds a bit excessive,” He pointed out, smiling lightly when Minho pulled the covers over his shoulder. 

“Maybe a bit. Just give him some time, Tomboy. He’s confused too.” Thomas nodded, knowing Minho was right. “Doesn’t mean I feel bad for kicking his ass, though. Idiot deserved it.” Thomas reached out with his good hand, grabbing one of Minho’s.

“Thanks Min,” He sighed, closing his eyes. Thomas felt a pair of lips press to his forehead, and a light tap on his cheek. He heard Minho leave the room, the door closing behind him. Thomas was too tired to pay attention to the swirling thoughts in his mind. Just before he dozed off, he remembered to text Newt about his meds. Even if he was mad at him, he would never be mad enough to let the boy slip up again.

He felt around in his pockets, looking for the familiar rectangular shape. It wasn’t there. It was still on the bathroom floor, and there was no way Minho was going to let him go down there. He sighed, trying to convince himself that Newt would be okay. He fell asleep with a strong sense of false hope hovering over him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ouch.  
> (Was the smut okay? I know it wasn't Newtmas- but it was my first time writing smut, and I'm nervous about it!)


	10. Chapter 10

*Minho’s POV* (Surprise!)

He was sitting at his kitchen table, head in one hand, glass of brandy in the other. He stared at the clock on the wall, the seconds ticking by painfully slow. He sighed, tugging at his hair. “I’m not even twenty five, and you two are making me gray already,” He knocked some of the alcohol back, relishing in the bitter taste. 

There was a knock at the door. At four in the morning, it could only be one person, and Minho didn’t know if he really wanted to answer. Newt was persistent in his knocking, Minho really didn’t want it to wake Thomas, so he went to answer the door. He opened it to find a much more sober Newt, looking absolutely devastated. 

“Hey,” Newt whispered, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“He’s asleep.” Minho said shortly.

“I know, I just-” Newt pulled something out of his pocket, handing it over to Minho. Thomas’s phone. “I found it when I was cleaning the washroom.” Minho nodded, shoving the phone into his own pocket. They stood in silence for a few minutes. 

“What are you doing, Newt?” MInho asked, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Newt shook his head, sticking his jaw out, avoiding eye contact. “Why are ya doing this to him?” Newt shook his head again, screwing his eyes shut as they began to get watery. 

Minho sighed, opening the door further, pulling Newt inside. “What am I doing, Min?” He whispered, falling into MInho’s embrace. Minho shut the door behind him, locking it tightly. Newt made his way to the couch, while Minho went to the fridge, grabbing two beers. He opened them, carrying them back to the couch. 

“You’re treating him the same way he treated you, Newt.” Minho told him, sitting down beside him. They were talking in hushed whispers to as not to wake Thomas. Newt kept glancing to Minho’s bedroom door, worriedly. “His hand’s fine.” Newt nodded, taking a sip from the bottle. 

“Good. Okay. Yeah, that’s great.” Newt nodded, setting the beer down on the coffee table. 

“You’re not being fair.” Minho told him turning so that they were facing each other. “Look, I get that you’ve been pining over this idiot for years, all the while he’s flirting with you in what he thinks is a best friend way, but you know it’s not. I understand that you feel like shit, and that wasn’t fair to you.” Newt picked at a loose string on the couch.

“It’s different though, y’know? I mean, it’s one thing when you’re in love with your straight best friend, and he won’t stop flirting. But when you’ve just come out, and all of a sudden your gay best friend keeps kissing you, and cuddling you more than normal, but won’t do anything about it? That’s way different, Newt.” 

Newt pulled the string out, ripping it harshly when it got caught. “I’m scared,” he admitted.

“Why? You’re long time crush suddenly falls in love with you, and you’re chickening out? Newt, you’re honestly the most confident guy when it comes to boys. What is it about Tommy?”

“I-” Newt groaned, pulling at his hair. “I’m scared that he doesn’t feel as strongly as I do, and isn’t looking for what I am.”

“Are you kidding me?” Minho was so tired of these two, he wanted to scream. 

“Minho, I’m genuinely so scared of that. I’m not joking.” Minho groaned, dropping his head into his hands.

“Newton Issacs, you may just be the biggest idiot i’ve ever met.” Minho shook his head, not sure how Newt could be so stupid. “Thomas loves you so much, he’d literally marry you right now if you asked.”

“He seem to like that guy he hooked up with last night,” Newt mumbled, trying to find another string.

“Wow, a twenty year old who likes making out with random people? Who knew?” Minho didn’t know what else to do to get this boy to listen to him.

“You hear that?”

“What?”

“That!”

“Newt what are you-” Minho asked. A small sound from his bedroom cut him off. It sounded like a whimper. Newt raised his eyebrows, both of them getting off the couch. The tiptoed toward the bedroom listening carefully.

“No- no stop- Newt- no- please, no- Newt!” Thomas started screaming. A blood curdling scream, identical to that of a man being tortured. They barged through the bedroom door, half expecting Thomas to be fighting off some serial killer.

The blankets were discarded on the floor, and he was sitting up in bed. His arms were wrapped around his legs, face buried in his knees. He was still screaming.

They ran forward, climbing onto the bed. Minho wrapped his arms and legs around Thomas, trying to calm him down. Newt kneeled in front of him, hands on his cheeks, trying to talk sense into him. “Tommy, hey, you’re okay.”

Tommy shook in Minho’s embrace, trying to claw at his arms. “Stop.” He yelled, thrashing about.

“I think he’s still asleep.” Minho gasped, as Thomas’s nail caught his skin, ripping it open. “Fuck, Thomas.”

“What do we do?” Newt asked, trying to wipe the tears away from Thomas’s cheeks. “Shh, Tommy, you’re okay darling.”  In any other situation, Minho would have rolled his eyes, but this was not the time.

“I don’t know! Wake him up?” Minho suggested, wincng as Thomas scratched at his already bleeding arm. 

“How?” Newt asked, grabbing Thomas’s leg as it kicked out. “Thomas, calm down.”

“Stop! No! Newt!” Minho tried pinching at Thomas’s arms, trying to snap him out of it. 

“I don’t know, Newt, kiss him.” Minho suggested, muscles getting sore and tense as he clung to Thomas.

“What?” Newt jumped when Thomas let out another sharp scream, more tears falling down his cheeks. “Tommy, wake up, you’re okay. I’m right here. Minho’s right here.” He tried, Minho rolled his eyes. 

“That’s how Sleeping Beauty woke up,” Minho tried, accidentally letting Thomas’s arm go. Newt caught it as it swung out, wrapping the hands together, Newt gave him a doubtful look, but leaned in nonetheless. The second Newt kissed him, Thomas’s whole body relaxed, all of the tension slipping away. 

Newt pulled back quickly, still holding Thomas’s face in his hands. “Thomas, wake up.” Thomas’s fingers unclasped from Minho’s arm, and he let out a small sigh. He blinked his eyes open, tears still running down his cheeks.

“Thank God,” Minho groaned, shoving Thomas out of his grasp towards Newt. “What the fuck was going on in that mind of yours?”

“I- did you take your meds yesterday?” Thomas asked, turning to Newt. Newt nodded carefully, awkwardly dropping his hands from Thomas’s face. “Okay, good. I dreamt you hadn’t been taking your pills for a long time- a really long time- and you- you-” 

Minho got up from the bed, walking to the door. He turned around, tossing Thomas’s phone onto the bed. “You can both stay over, if you like.” Minho suggested, walking out the door. Newt nodded, taking up his offer, but Thomas began to protest.

“Your meds-”

“I’ll go get them.” Minho promised, beginning to close the bedroom door. “Just promise that you aren’t going to do it in my bed.”

“You know I can’t promise that, MIn.” Thomas teased, falling back onto the pillows, spreading himself out in a provocative manner. Minho rolled his eyes, and shut the door. He grabbed his keys, and threw his jacket and shoes on, walking out the front door. “I swear to God, if you two aren’t together when I get back....” He mumbled to himself, making his way out of the bar. It was a short ways to their apartment, so he didn’t bother taking his car, providing them with more time. 

Part of him felt bad for leaving them alone together, when Thomas had been so upset. The other part of him thought he might explode if he had to watch them flirt any longer. Minho was glad Thomas finally came to his senses about Newt, and the whole gay thing in general, but this was way more difficult than it needed to be. 

“You normally walk around at four thirty in the morning?” Minho whipped his head around, coming face to face with a girl about his age. The dim light from the street lamp enhanced her beauty in a soft manner. Her golden blonde hair fell to her waist, blowing slightly in the wind. Her eyes shone under the light, and although Minho couldn’t make out the color, they were still breathtaking. She was short, the top of her head only reaching his shoulder.

“Great way to meet people,” Minho shrugged, messing up his hair slightly. She laughed, and Minho thought he might die right then and there. “Minho,”He held out his hand to her. She took it with a smile, and yes, Minho was melting into a giant puddle.

“Aaliyah,” She answered, pulling her hand back and gesturing around them. “So what are you doing out here this early? Or late, if you’re still up from last night like me.” 

“My friend is staying over, but he forgot his medication, so I’m running to his apartment to grab them.” Minho explained, gesturing over his shoulder towards his flat. “Why are you out here?” 

“Couldn’t sleep, decided fresh air would be nice.” She explained, gesturing for them to continue walking towards Newt and Thomas’s. She fell into step beside him, and Minho wondered if it was too soon for holding her hand. He decided it was, since he only knew her name, and her apparent insomnia. 

“Can I get your number?” Minho asked bluntly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. She took it, and punched her number in. “Thanks,” Minho was never one to be nervous around a girl, but dear God his hands were sweating. 

“Why didn’t your friend go get his own meds?” Aaliyah asked, gazing up at the stars. 

“He had a fight with our other friend, so they’re currently making up. And hopefully making out.” Minho laughed. She turned her head towards him, eyes shining. 

“You have a great laugh,” She commented. He hoped she couldn’t see his blush in the dim light. 

“Thanks. You have a great-” Minho gulped, trying to form words. “Everything.”  _ You fucking idiot, piece of shit, you’ll never get a girl, what the fuck are you thinking? _

Aaliyah laughed, throwing her head back as she did so. “You’re funny, I like you.” She told him. Goddamn butterflies started doing their thing in Minho’s stomach. Minho was a pathetic excuse for a twenty four year old. 

“Want to grab a coffee sometime?” He asked, desperately trying to save his pride. 

“I’d like that,” She nodded, tentatively grabbing his hand. Minho was on cloud nine with a crush like a little school girl. Someone needed to snap some sense into him immediately. 

“So, what kind of things are you into, Aaliyah?” He asked, loving the way her name sounded on his tongue. 

Aaliyah was a painter, which excited Minho, as he, himself drew a lot. She was an art school dropout, as there was no freedom to do her own thing there. Too much structure she called it. They arrived at the boy’s apartment, and Minho grabbed the meds. He offered to walk her home, to which she happily agreed. 

Aaliyah had a little brother, who was seven, named Jordan. Her parents had split ten years ago, and Jordan was the product of his mother and ex-boyfriends relationship. Aaliyah talked all the way home, telling him all sorts of stories. He hung onto every detail, watching her in awe.

“Well, this is me,” She told him after they had been walking for ten minutes. “Thanks for walking me home.” She smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Of course, I like spending time with you.” Minho confessed, still holding her hand in his. “Good night, Aaliyah,” He said softly. She bit her lip, a look of consideration in her eye.

“I think most people would consider this morning.” Aaliyah pointed out, smirking as she did so. Minho laughed, shaking his head and pulling her towards him. One of his hands went into her hair, the other still intertwined with hers.

He pressed his lips to hers softly, short but sweet. When he pulled back, she was blushing bright red. “I- wow, we just met,” Minho stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“I feel like i’ve known you for years,” Aaliyah admitted, pulling him down into another kiss. Minho smiled into the kiss, thankful that she was feeling the same way. “Good night,” She whispered, pulling back. He watched her walk away, disappearing through the front door. He jogged home, eager to tell the boys, and see if they were finally together. 

When he entered his apartment he threw the door open, not bothering to be quiet. He found Newt in the kitchen. “Hey!” He chirped happily. Newt scowled at him, grabbing the Advil bottle from Minho’s cupboard. “Did ya get together?” Minho was nearly bouncing with excitement. 

“No, Min. I just made him go back to sleep. Maybe when he wakes up.” Newt shrugged, scowling again. Minho nodded, grabbing three glasses out of the cupboard, and filling them with water. He set Newt’s pills down beside one of the glasses, while Newt set two Advil’s beside each of them.

“What’s gotten into you?” A groggy voice asked. Minho and Newt both spun around to face Tommy. Newt blushed, looking down at his feet, while Minho bounced on the spot. “Seriously, ya get high without us or somethin’?” 

“Ya, you’re acting a bit weird,” Newt commented, holding out a glass and two pills to Thomas. Thomas knocked them back, giving Minho a quizzical look. 

“Nothin’,” MInho shrugged, knocking back his own pills. “Just met a girl, that’s all.”

“That why it took ya an hour to get my meds?” Newt asked, swallowing his own meds. Minho nodded, finishing off the glass of water.

“So what, you hooked up in our apartment?” Thomas asked, sitting down on the edge of Minho’s kitchen table. Minho shook his head, hopping up onto the counter.

“We held hands!” He whispered excitedly, looking between the two boys.

“You’re joking right?” Thomas asked, a smirk on his face.

“ _ The _ Minho Park is excited about holding hands with a  _ girl _ ?” Newt asked, sitting down at the table. “You can’t be serious.” Minho nodded his head, smiling to himself.

“Her name’s Aaliyah, and she’s beautiful. She likes to paint, and she’s got a seven year old brother. This one time they were by the river and-”

“Minho Park, lovestruck.” Thomas laughed, resting his chin on his hand.

“I don’t think I’ve seen him like this since sixth grade,” Newt laughed.

“No, it was eighth, remember with that Brenda girl?”

“Oh yeah! I forgot about that!” Newt agreed, turning his attention back to Minho. “Do anything else besides hold hands?”

“I kissed her good night!” Minho smiled, leaning back against the wall. “And I got her number, don’t worry.” He assured them, jumping off the counter. “I’m really tired. You two can have the bed.” Minho walked towards the couch, the sounds of excited whispering floating out from the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there wasn't much Newtmas in that, but I felt bad for Minho, and I needed a way to put Newt's perspective in there. Hope you liked it anyways :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence applies!

Thomas was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Newt was in the kitchen, cooking them dinner. It had been two days since Newt had broken his heart, and Minho had met Aaliyah. Thomas had met Aaliyah yesterday, and she was very nice, and extremely beautiful. Minho was so love-struck that it hurt even Thomas. 

A sharp knock on the front door rang out, and Thomas half considered answering it, as Newt was making dinner, and that was the polite thing to do. Thomas decided against it because, well, he was lazy, and Newt was closer. 

He heard the front door open. “Hey Mr. Murphy!” Newt said with fake excitement. Thomas froze in his bed, terrified to do anything but listen. 

“Hey, Newt,” His father bought Newt’s act. As far as his father was concerned, Newt knew nothing about what had happened. “Can I come in?”

“Uh,” Newt paused. “Thomas isn’t home right now.”

“Is it alright if I wait for him?” His dad had a weird tone in his voice, and it haunted Thomas. 

“Yeah, of course! Come in, come in. Would you like a drink? I’m afraid all we have is cheap beer.”

“Please,” Thomas heard the bottles being opened, and a silence filled with tension hung over the house. 

“So how have you been, Mr. Murphy?”

“Good.”

“And Thomas’s mother? I miss her dearly, especially her cooking,” Newt enthused, trying to make small talk. 

“Fine.” Thomas’s heart was beating fast in his chest. He didn’t know how to get his dad out and away from Newt. “How are you? Seeing anyone?” 

“No sir, broke up with my girlfriend a few weeks ago.” He made up. Thomas could hear him bustling around in the kitchen, presumably continuing to make dinner. “Minho got himself a girl the other day. Absolutely lovely. Real stunner, too.”

“I always did like that Minho, had an eye for the right kind of people,” The silence rang loud again. 

“He really does, should ask him to find me a girl, God knows I could use the help.”

“I don’t think you’re looking for a girl, Isaacs.” Thomas got to his feet, silently creeping towards his bedroom door. 

“Maybe not to get married just yet, but I need to get myself back into the dating pool.” Newt was doing really well, but it scared Thomas nonetheless.

“Thomas isn’t interested in girls,” His dad stated. It wasn’t a question of knowledge, it was a simple fact, that Newt couldn’t deny.

“Told me they’re too much work,” Newt laughed. He was nervous, Thomas needed to do something. “Gotta agree with him there.”

“When will Thomas be home?”

“Pretty soon, just went to the grocery store.”

“Newt?” 

“Yes, sir?”

“Why did you turn my son gay?” The question was calm, but stern, filled with pure horror. Thomas’s hand was on the doorknob, waiting for Newt’s answer. If he answered wrongly, Thomas’s father would not be happy.

“You don’t turn someone gay, Mr. Murphy. People are born that way, and If you can’t see that, you need to get out of our house.”  _ Wrong answer, definitely the wrong answer. _ Thomas opened his door, coming face to face with a seething Newt, and a very angry father. His father walked toward the front door, and closed it, locking it behind him. 

“Sit.” He demanded, pointing to the couch. Both boys hurried over, as Thomas’s father stood in front of them. Thomas’s lungs were constricting, all the air being squeezed out. Newt sat beside him, shaking his leg nervously. Thomas knew Newt would normally argue someone bossing him around in his own house, but this was serious. 

“Dad,” Thomas tried, attempting to formulate a proper sentence.

“Don’t call me that.” His father spat, glaring at the boys. Thomas tensed, feeling Newt do the same beside him. His father held the now empty beer bottle in his hand, tapping it against his palm as he paced back and forth in front of them. 

His father paused, turning to Newt. “Fix him.” He requested, eyes boring into the boy beside him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Newt replied, getting to his feet. He walked around the coffee table to face Thomas’s father. Thomas felt weak, scared, he couldn’t move a muscle, could only watch the scene unfold. 

“Fix him!” His father demanded again, giving Newt a slight shove. Newt shoved him back, standing as tall as he could.

“Fix your attitude,” Newt countered, glaring at Thomas’s father. Another shove from Newt. “And get out of our house.” 

Thomas’s father swung the beer bottle back, and aimed it for Newt’s head. It was a mirror image of how Thomas had smashed the bottle the other day. Newt ducked just in time. The bottle smashed against the wall, shards of glass going everywhere. All three of them lunged for a shard, Thomas doing so without registering his movements. Thomas’s father had a huge, jagged piece, still attached to the neck. 

“Now Newt,” Thomas father brandished the glass, pointing it towards Thomas, and then at Newt’s face. “If you really are straight, I suggest you leave now.”

Newt lunged forward, slicing the glass across Thomas’s father’s cheek with a scream. “You prick!” He yelled, backing up to avoid being hit himself. 

“I’ll kill you if you stay, Isaacs. Leave.” 

“I’ll kill  _ you _ if  _ you  _ stay, now get the fuck out of our house.” Thomas’s father laughed at Newt, twirling the bottle around in his hand. 

“Why? You love him or something?” His father taunted, taking a large step forward, nearly backing them into the wall. 

“You jealous?” Newt taunted, taking a small step forward. It was two to one, but both boys were terrified. “I know it must be tough, raising a child who doesn’t love you.” Newt scoffed, voice shaking slightly. Thomas hoped it was from anger, not fear. He knew better than that. 

Thomas’s father lunged forward. Newt’s back hit the wall, and he threw his arm out to grab Thomas. His father pinned Thomas to the wall, arm against his throat. Thomas couldn’t breath. He struggled under his father’s grip, the shard of glass falling from his fingers. “No one could ever love this disgrace.”

Newt jumped, shoving his shard of glass into Thomas’s father’s shoulder. The man yelled in pain, dropping Thomas to the floor. Thomas scrambled to his feet, taking in ragged breaths. He grabbed Newt’s hand, trying to drag him to the door.

Newt’s grip fell from his, and he turned to find his father holding his pocket knife to Newt’s neck. “You fuck my son?” Newt shook his head, standing on his toes to relieve some of the pressure from the blade. Thomas could see drops of red appearing. “Are you fucking him?” Thomas’s father yelled, pressing the blade harder against Newt’s neck. Newt looked at Thomas with watery eyes, mouthing the word ‘go.’

“So what if I am?” Newt snarled, shutting his eyes as he did so. Thomas’s dad shoved Newt against the wall, before turning to Thomas. Newt’s head smashed against the wall, making him stumble to the side. 

“Come here,” His father demanded, pointing the knife between himself and Newt. Thomas obeyed, walking in between Newt and his father, not saying a word. “You in love with this kid?” 

“Yes.”

“Is that it? That’s what this is all about?” Thomas stared at his father confused. “Did this kid make you think you were gay so he could get in your pants?” 

“I am gay. Infact, I’ve hooked up with guys other than Newt.” Thomas smirked, shoving his father as hard as he could. His father stumbled back, tripping over the table and landing flat on his back. Thomas jumped on top of him, trying to wrestle the knife away.

“Tommy,” Newt was at his side, grabbing the knife at a different angle, and ripping it from both their hands. As soon as his hand was free, he hit his father, as hard as he could. His father shoved him off, sending him flying into Newt. The knife flew away. His father grabbed a handful of the glass shards, blood dripping from his hand. Both boys scrambled backward, Thomas pressing Newt behind him.

His father threw the glass, dozens of shards flying at their faces. Thomas quickly closed his eyes, reaching behind him to shield Newt’s eyes. He felt the glass tear into his skin, slicing at his arms and face. Newt whimpered, making Thomas open his eyes.

A particularly large fragment was sticking out of his cheek. By the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, it looked like it had gone right through. Newt’s eyes were closed tightly, his mouth hanging open. A tear slipped from his eye, mingling with the crimson blood oozing from his cheek. Thomas didn’t know what to do. He spun around to face his father again, his hand resting on Newt’s thigh. He felt a hard rectangle in Newt’s pocket. He taped the phone, shifting so that he could block his father’s view.

Thomas’s father stood above them, twirling the knife in his fingers. Newt managed to get the phone out, presumably dialing 999. His father grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him forward and dragging him to the couch. Thomas tried to fight him off, stumbling when his foot caught the coffee table.  His dad threw him down, hovering over top of him, brandishing the knife. 

Newt ran forward, phone pressed to his ear. “I need the cops, my boyfriend’s dad is trying to kill us.” Thomas barely registered the words as the knife made contact with his chest, dragging downward. He yelled in pain, feeling his skin and muscles ripping as the knife tore through him. The world around him went numb for a moment, the only thing which existed was the burning pain, and hot blood coming from Thomas’s chest. 

Newt threw the phone to the side. “Stop!” Thomas father shoved him backward, making him trip over the coffee table. His father continued, carving three, long, vertical lines across his torso. Tears were dripping down Thomas’s face as blood soaked his shirt. His vision was blurry, and he felt as if he were already dead. The only thing on his mind at this point was getting Newt out safely. Newt lunged forward again, successfully pulling Thomas’s father off. 

They tumbled off the couch and onto the floor as Thomas lay gasping in pain. It coursed through his body, making him shake. He could barely focus on anything else. His head was starting to spin. He lolled his head to the side, watching Newt struggle with his father. 

His father flipped them over, pinning Newt down on his stomach. Thomas pushed himself up, momentarily blinded by pain. He managed to get himself onto the floor. He army crawled towards the pair, every move setting his nerves on fire. Thomas’s father dragged the knife down Newt’s back, starting at his shoulder blade, and ending at his hip. 

Newt screamed as loud as he could, a mixture of pain, and a cry for help. He thrashed about on the floor, desperately trying to get away from Thomas’s father. His father climbed to his feet, just as Thomas reached their side. He struck Newt in the side with his foot, causing the boy to yell in pain and curl in on himself. 

Thomas hovered over Newt, unable to do anything other than try to block his father. A sharp kick collided with his side, and he fell onto his elbows, barely able to support himself. He turned to Newt. His face was sickly pale, blood running over his shoulder, a startling contrast to the paleness of his skin. Tears drenched his face, mixing with the blood and making it run faster. His breathing was laboured, causing him to take huge gulps of air as he struggled to fight the pain. Thomas’s heart broke, knowing their chances of getting out of this were very low. 

Thomas heard footsteps coming closer to the front door, but they weren’t hurried. He remembered why Newt had been preparing dinner. Minho and Aaliyah were coming over. Newt must have been thinking the same thing, as he screamed loudly again, barely able to move his body. Thomas’s mind spun as the door flew open. “Run!” He heard Minho yell as his footsteps got closer. “Call 999, run!” 

Thomas’s vision was so clouded he could barely make out Minho’s form jumping onto his father. He managed to lay himself down, half beside, half on top of Newt. “Tommy,” He reached his hand to the boy, grabbing his hip. Thomas could hear grunts and yells from Minho and his father, though he could no longer see them.

“You’re gonna be okay, Newt,” Thomas murmured, gripping Newt’s hip tighter. “I got you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger!  
> Sorry guys, love you all <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a bit of a tear-jerker guys.. I added it last minute and made myself sad :( Hope you like it anyway

*Surprise Newt POV*

 

“I got you,” Newt’s vision blurred as Thomas’s eyes began to slip closed. Newt panicked. The amount of blood running onto the floor between them was enough to kill a person, and most of it was Thomas’s. It was dripping from Thomas’s mouth, stomach, and a hundred small cuts all over his face from the glass.

The shard in Newt’s cheek knocked against his teeth as he tried to reach for Thomas, sending white hot pain searing through his head. He gasped, head spinning, blackness creeping into the corners of his vision. “Tommy,” The glass knocked his tooth again, the pain enough to take over his vision for good. 

Grunts and yells of pain were coming from the other side of the room. Newt could hear the sound of the blade hitting flesh, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, let alone run over and help. He felt the rest of his strength leave his body, causing him to roll onto his back. The pain which hit him was enough to knock him out.

\---------

Newt was flying. He was being lifted into the air, every inch of his body screaming for mercy. His eyes shot open as he tried to fight the bindings which were holding him down. 

“Hang in there kid,” A gruff voice spoke as Newt was set down on a gurney. He looked up at the man, heart pounding.

“Thomas. Where is he?” There was screaming. More fighting. Another gurney with a bloody Minho. Paramedics and police everywhere. No Thomas.

“They took him already. Don’t worry, he’s our top priority.” That man assured, pulling the gurney from the room. Minho screamed in pain as Newt was rolled past him. Their teary eyes met in a painful stare. Newt’s vision was blackening again as the gurney jostled him. He yelped as one particular bump set pain coursing through his back. Minho yelled his name. Newt didn’t have the energy to respond as the darkness took over again.

\-------

“It hurts!” Newt’s eyes opened again. Above him was an unfamiliar ceiling, the lights spinning in circles. “Make it stop!” Minho’s screams struck a nerve in his heart, making him nauseous. Unfamiliar faces loomed above him, moving in and out of his vision. “Please!” 

The faces appeared to be talking to him, but all he could hear was Minho’s screams. “Min!” He called, as loud as he could. The glass in his cheek sent pain ripping through his body. A light was shone in his eyes, but he blinked it away.

“Newt!” Minho yelled back, his voice getting further and further away. “Hang in there.” Newt’s eyes darted to the side as he was spun in what felt like a million circles. Further down the hall, another gurney was surrounded by people wearing blue. A tuft of familiar brown hair could be seen past two of the people. Someone sat on the patient’s chest, pressing against it repeatedly. 

Newt’s heart sank as he reached a shaky arm towards Thomas.

\---------

Pain seemed to be all his body knew. Every inch of him screaming for relief. A weird mixture of pain and nausea hit his stomach. He pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the blinding pain. His stomach lurched, contents spilling all over the rest of his body. Newt’s eyes flew open, stomach contorting again as he saw the harsh red of the liquid pouring from his mouth. 

He coughed, trying to turn onto his side as more blood came up. Hands were all over him, pushing him back. Voices yelled all around him. His eyes fell on a pair of double doors, the top half made of glass. 

The woman who was on Thomas’s body before, now had two long, lollipop shaped paddles in her hand. He watched as she lowered the paddles into Thomas’s chest. He threw up again, a mixture of blood and his lunch. Thomas’s body jolted. 

She did it again. 

Again. 

Newt tore his eyes away, rolling his head to the other side, to meet another set of doors. Minho was unconscious now, doctors and nurses rushing around his body. Something pinched the side of his neck, an immediate warmth spreading through his veins. 

He allowed his head to loll back to Thomas once more. The paddles were gone, doctors and nurses blocking Newt’s view of him completely. Newt let out a sob before he slipped away again. 

\------------

Most of the pain had left Newt’s body the next time he woke up. He shifted his body, finding all the sticky blood had disappeared, as if it were never there. A thought hit him, causing him to sit straight up. “Am I dead?”

“When you blast Adele around the flat, I sometimes wish you were.” Newt turned to see Minho laying in the bed beside him, his arm in a weird contraption. Aaliyah sat beside him, writing something on the cast. 

“You’re okay?” Newt asked, taking in Minho’s bruises and cuts. Minho nodded, smiling at Newt. “Thank God. Thanks for showing up when you did, man. Another minute and we’d be dead.” Minho made a strange face at this comment, looking down at his hands. “Where’s Tommy?”

“Last I heard, he was in the operating room,” MInho said quietly, the small amount of color in his face draining completely. 

“Is he okay?” Newt’s heart dropped, images of doctors trying to restart Thomas’s heart filling his mind. 

“I- they won’t tell me anything. Next-of-kin only,” Minho sighed, rubbing his face with his unbroken hand. “His heart’s stopped three times, Newt.” 

“He doesn’t have next-of-kin,” Newt pointed out, trying to wrap his head around Minho’s words. 

“Newt?” Aaliyah was moving towards him, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. “Sometimes they tell significant others the information in that case.” She told him, pushing him back down on the bed. “I’ll call the nurse, okay? She might tell you some stuff if you play the boyfriend card.”

The nurse arrived a few minutes later, and Newt sat up quickly again, his head spinning from the sudden movement. “Where is he? My boyfriend, is he okay?” He asked, clutching at the nurse’s arm as she checked different machines Newt was hooked up to. 

“They still have him up in the OR,” she explained. “I can’t tell you anymore with spectators.” Her eyes darted to Minho and Aaliyah. Aaliyah stood up, making her way to the door. 

“I’ll leave, it’s alright. See you later Min,” She gave a wave and walked from the room. 

“And Minho is staying. We’re all Thomas has left, and he’s going to hear it one way or another.” Newt said determinedly, adjusting his body in his bed as she tilted it into a sitting position. 

“Alright,” she nodded. “He’s got a lot of damage. The blood loss was exponential, and because of it, his heart stopped beating at least four times. A few of his organs, including his lung, were damaged from the knife wounds. The doctors are working very hard to repair his organs right now. He may already be out of surgery.

“As of right now, a recovery seems promising. However, he has not showed any signs of consciousness since he arrived. We are not sure how much brain damage he suffered due to blood loss and lack of oxygen. In the case he has suffered great brain damage, do you know what Mr. Murphy’s wishes were in the case of organ donation?”

“Do you think he’ll die?”

“Right now there’s a 30% chance he will not make it. It could be higher, depending on the brain damage. I believe those are fairly good odds for a boy who’s suffered so much. We just need to know for sure, in case there’s urgent need for an organ, and he does not make it.”

“Tommy- he would like that- yeah,” Newt swallowed thickly. “He likes to help other people.” The nurse nodded, getting to her feet. “Wait- when can we see him?”

“I will check with the OR. Once he is in recovery, I can take the pair of you up to meet him.” Newt nodded. "As for yourself, you have a particularly nasty concussion, so you will need to be monitored during the night for at least a week. You also had so internal bleeding, most likely from a kick to your side. You're expected to make a full recovery, but you will have quitethe scar on your back." Newt nodded again,  and she left the room. Minho let out a strangled noise, burying his face into his pillow. 

“Min- hey. He’s got a 70% chance. That’s good.” Newt tried to assure him, not believing it himself. 

“I wish I would have killed his father.” Minho snarled, face hovering over the pillow.

“What happened?”

“I ran in, and saw you two laying on the floor. Honestly, I thought you were dead.” Minho’s breath was shaky. Tears dripped onto his pillow. “I told Aaliyah to run and call 999. I ran in and tackled Mr. Murphy, started punching him and stuff. I didn’t even notice the knife. He got me in the shoulder. 

“Someone else must have called the ambulance, because I could hear them all running up the stairs. Mr. Murphy jumped up, I guess he heard them too. He kinda jumped on my arm. A lot. He like ground his foot into it too. The doc says it might need surgery, or possible amputation. He says the bones are like dust in there.

“The cops and paramedics ran in then. The cops tackled Mr. Murphy down, but he kept swinging with his knife. I think he got one of the cops with it. They were still wrestling with him when we left, so I don’t know what’s happened to him. 

“When they wheeled you past, and you looked at me, I thought you were dead. I’d seen ‘em take Tomboy out already, but they moved a lot faster with him. I thought that was because you were dead. Guess it was because Tomboy was almost dead. They brought us here in the ambulance after that. I don’t remember much, I just remember the pain.”

“I remember your screams,” Newt supplied, a smirk playing at his mouth. “Are you that loud in bed?” 

“Depends. Most of the time I’m louder,” Minho winked, causing a laugh to erupt from Newt’s mouth. Despite his growing concern for Thomas’s wellbeing, laughing felt nice. 

“Okay boys,” The nurse entered the room again, accompanied by a rather attractive male nurse. Both of them were pushing wheelchairs. “He’s in recovery. He’s still knocked out, but you can go see him.” 

The male nurse pushed the chair to Newt’s bedside, and helped him out of the bed, and into the chair. Newt smiled in thanks, recieving a wink in return. Newt felt himself blushing, and adverted his gaze to watch Minho get in his own chair. 

The nurses wheeled them out of the room, and into an elevator at the end of the hall. “You should know,” the male nurse spoke. “He looks worse than he is. It might be a bit frightening.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Newt told him, as the elevator arrived at a new floor. The nurse pushed Newt out, Minho following closely behind. 

“I’m sure you can,” The nurse replied, leading them down a long, plain white hallway. “Just let me know if you need to leave.” Newt nodded. They stopped in front of a pale yellow door, a small window was set into the frame, too far up for Newt to see through. 

The nurse pushed the door open, and then pulled Newt in backwards. The room was tiny, with crisp white walls and a large window, which the blinds were pulled across. Machines surrounded the bed, making beeping a whirring noises. Newt let his eyes settle on the bed, as he was pushed right up beside it. 

Thomas’s brown hair was matted to his forehead, soaked with blood and sweat. Small cuts littered his face, a few of them sewn closed with stitches. His lip was swollen, a deep cut running over it. More cuts littered his neck and shoulders, leading down under the collar of his hospital gown. His skin was paler than Newt thought possible. A bag of blood hung to his right, a tube leading into Thomas’s arm. Newt reached up, pushing Thomas’s hair to the side.

“Looks like he got hit with a truck,” Minho commented from the other side of the bed, taking Thomas’s hand in his own.

“His dad’s about the size of a truck,” Newt whispered, grabbing Thomas’s other hand. He raised it to his own mouth, pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles. “God Tommy, you gotta wake up.”

Minho rested his head on his hand, propping his elbow up on Thomas’s bed. “Yeah Tomboy, I don’t know if I can deal with this love sick puppy over here much longer.”

“Hey! I’m not lovesick!” Newt protested, tangling his fingers with Thomas’s. Minho gave him a pointed look, which caused Newt to blush. “Okay, maybe I am,” he admitted, turning to Thomas again. “I just want you to be okay, Tommy. They said you might have something going on up there is that beautiful mind of yours.”

“Oh my god, Newt.” Minho groaned, covering his ears with his hands. “You’re disgustingly cute, and I can’t take it.”

“Min,” Newt whispered, running his hand along the side of Thomas’s face. “I’m really worried. What if there’s something wrong up here? What if he doesn’t make it? What if they take his organs? What if-”

“Newt. Relax.” Minho reached across the bed, placing his hand over Newt and Thomas’s. “No one is going to be stealing his heart except you.”

“Wow, I think you’re worse than I am,” Newt laughed, eyes still on Thomas. Minho smiled and pulled his hand back.

“You going to stay a while?” Minho asked him, pushing himself backwards with his feet. Newt nodded, bringing Thomas’s hand to his mouth again. Minho half-rolled-half-walked to the door, struggling to pull it open and not hit his chair. One of the nurses appeared at the door, helping him get out. 

As soon as the door closed, he sat back in the chair, pulling Thomas’s hand with him. He wished he could just curl up in bed next to Thomas, making everything better. With his eyes still focused on Thomas’s face, he allowed his mind to wander. 

 

_ Newt pushed the great big blue door open. He was finally tall enough to reach the handle, so he had to open every door in sight. His mom walked through the door after him, taking his hand. They walked down a long hallway. The walls had lots of colorful drawings on them. Newt really liked coloring.  _

_ At the end of the hallway was a big group of people standing near a blue door. There were lots of kids his age, most of them were taller than him though. They were all standing around with their moms and dads. Newt suddenly felt very nervous with so many people around. He squeezed his mom’s hand harder. _

_ “You’ll be okay Newt,” She told him, ruffling his hair up. “You’ll make lots of friends.” He smiled, looking around at all the kids, trying to find one who looked nice. There was a group of loud boys in the middle, but they looked kind of mean. Two girls stood near the door, playing with dolls. Newt liked dolls, maybe he could play with them. _

_ He started walking to the girls, when he saw a boy sitting all by himself against the wall. He had brown hair, and was sitting cross legged, watching all the other kids play. Newt changed direction, heading for the boy instead. He sat down against the wall, putting on the biggest smile he could make. _

_ “Hi, my name’s Newt! I’m six years old!” The boy smiled back at him. _

_ “I’m Thomas. I’m six too.” Thomas’s voice sounded weird. He sounded like he was from America. _

_ “Where’s your mom and dad?” Newt asked, looking around at all the grown ups to see if any of them looked like Thomas. They didn’t. _

_ “My dad already left. He had to go to work,” Thomas told him, peeling at the velcro on his shoe. _

_ “Why are you just sitting by yourself?” Newt asked. _

_ “I’m not very good at making friends,” Thomas admitted, his big eyes staring up at Newt curiously. “Why’d you come sit with me?” _

_ “You looked nice. Wanna draw a picture with me today?”  _

_ “Okay!” _

 

Newt smiled sadly, thinking of the small brown-haired boy sitting all by himself. A small tear slipped down Newt’s cheek, he didn’t bother brushing it away. He let his eyes wander over Thomas’s face. His chapped red lips stood out strongly against his white skin.

 

_ “Tommy?” Newt whispered quietly, pulling the knit blanket up to his chin. They were lounging on Newt’s couch, watching a sleepover. Thomas was staying the night, which he usually did when his dad got loud. Newt didn’t really understand why Mr. Murphy got so angry, but he knew he didn’t like Thomas being home when it happened.  _

_ “Yeah?” Thomas spoke through a mouthful of Cheetos, bits of orange flying everywhere. Newt bit his lip, trying to work up the nerve to say it. “You okay?” Newt nodded, keeping his eyes locked on the hem of the blanket. Newt felt Thomas rustling around, the blanket being pulled away from his face. Thomas knelt in front of him, taking his hands with his own. “Hey, Newt, it’s okay.” _

_ “Tommy- Thomas, I’m gay,” Newt let the words tumble from his lips. His heart stopped. Thomas blinked at him, but said nothing. “Oh God. Let’s forget I said that, okay? We can just go back to-” _

_ Thomas’s leaned forward quickly, pressing his lips to Newt’s. Newt stiffened, holding completely still until Thomas sat back a few seconds later. They stared at each other with wide eyes for a few seconds, before Thomas sat back on the couch properly. _

_ “Who did you kiss?” He asked, playing with his fingers.  _

_ “What do you mean?”  _

_ “What boy did you kiss? That’s how you know you’re gay right? By experimenting?” Thomas asked. _

_ “No, I- no one. I’ve never kissed anyone. Well, except you I guess.” Newt shrugged, flushing when he realised he’d just had his first kiss.  _

_ “Then how did you know?” Thomas’s voice was quiet, like he was scared. _

_ “I-I dunno, I guess I kinda just think boys are cuter than girls.” Newt didn’t really know how to explain it. “Wait- so was that you testing to see if you were gay?” _

_ “I guess- yeah.” Thomas admitted, meeting Newt’s eyes. _

_ “So, are you?”  _

_ “I dunno. By my logic, since I haven’t kissed a girl, I guess so,” Thomas’s voice was no louder than a whisper. “But by your logic, I think girls are cute. Not boys. So I guess I’m not. Which is good because my dad-” Thomas’s eyes went wide, looking at Newt. “My dad can’t find out about you, he’ll hurt you.” _

_ “Oh,” Newt whispered, a thought striking his mind. He’d heard of people being able to tell if you were gay, whether you told them or not. What if Mr. Murphy could tell Newt was gay? Both Newt and Thomas could get hurt because of that. “We- you can stop being my friend, if your dad is gonna get mad.”  _

_ “Are you kidding?” Newt felt tears prickling at his eyes, his brain heading through an emotional rollercoaster. Thomas’s arms were suddenly around him, pulling him close to his chest. Newt felt a lump rise in his throat, and tears started falling from his eyes. “Newt. I will never stop being your friend, you hear that? I love you Newt, this doesn’t change a thing, promise.” _

  
Newt pulled his chair closer to Thomas’s bed. He laid his head down on the boy’s hip, as lightly as he could. “Fuck, Thomas, please wake up.” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears spilt onto his cheeks. “Tommy, I love you so much, I can’t lose you. Please wake up. Please Tommy, I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading lovlies <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's later than usual guys... may have forgotten to write half of it :o

Newt rolled his pill between his fingers, the cool glass of water held tightly between his fingers. He glared at the pill, wondering what would happen if he just crushed it between his fingers and pretended he took it. 

He knew what would happen. It was the same thing that happened every time he pretended to take his pills. He would get tired. Then angry. Then sad. Then Tommy would get upset, and Newt would be sent back to his psychiatrist for stronger meds. 

Newt was so tired of it. Tired of having to take three damn capsules a day, just to stay happy. He hated being sick, he just wanted to get rid of the meds for good. 

His eyes flickered from the pill to Thomas’s lifeless figure on the hospital bed. His chest moved slowly with machine generated breaths. His hair was clean now, as Newt had insisted he would wash the blood out of it. His eyes were still beneath his translucent eyelids, never moving an inch.

Newt placed the pill on his tongue, and washed it down. He repeated the process with the other two pills he had placed on Thomas’s bedside table. He set the glass down, and took Thomas’s hand into his own. “Tommy, it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

Thomas didn’t wake. Not that Newt had expected him to, he just hoped he did. He brushed some of Thomas’s hair out of his face, smiling at the boy as he did so. The door clicked open behind him, the now familiar squeak of MInho’s wheelchair entering the room. 

Minho could walk fine at this point, but the doctor had warned him against any movement that would injure his arm further. Newt, on the other hand, was still at risk of ripping his stitches to walk. Even if it had been two days. 

“How’d it go?” Newt asked, not taking his eyes away from Thomas’s angelic face. Minho had been seeing the doctor, to talk about options for his arm. Minho’s chair was rolled to the opposite side of Thomas’s bed by a young blonde nurse. She smiled at Newt, but he barely spared her a glance. 

“He said he could try surgery, but he may have to cut it off anyways,” Minho said quietly. His voice was soft, but shaky, Newt knew he was crying before he even looked up. Minho’s eyes were red and bloodshot, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Even if he doesn’t, it still won’t work right.”

“So are you going to have the surgery?” Newt asked, reaching over to take Minho’s good hand. 

“Worth a shot, right?” Minho shrugged, looking down at his hand. “I tried moving it earlier- I know they told me not to- but I can’t move it at all. It’s like it’s paralyzed. It hurts though. Never felt pain like it.” 

Newt gave Minho a half hearted smile, and turned to Thomas again. “He’s not getting any better,” Newt whispered, running his hand over Thomas’s cheek. “How much longer do we wait?”

“Until he wakes up, Newt. We are  _ not _ giving up on him,” Minho stressed through clenched teeth. Newt nodded and stood up, pressing a kiss to Thomas’s cheek. “Careful.”

The pair sat in silence for what felt like years, desperately watching Thomas’s face for any sign of liveliness. 

 

_ Newt was already regretting his choice to introduce Thomas to weed. He was already becoming increasingly more touchy, especially with Minho. “It’s his first time,” Minho had reassured him, gently pushing Thomas off his lap. “You were this bad your first time, too.” _

_ “I was not,” Newt shot back, taking another hit from the joint.  _

_ “You’re right, you were worse,” Minho laughed, taking the joint from between Newt’s fingers. Newt reached out, rubbing his hand along Thomas’s leg. “You’re still that bad.”  _

_ “Newt,” Thomas’s voice was low, hot breath hitting Newt’s ear. Newt shifted slightly, leaning back against Thomas, who was now kneeling behind him. Thomas’s head dropped onto Newt’s shoulder, his hands snaking around Newt’s waist.  _

_ Newt raised his eyebrows at Minho, who shrugged in response. “Whatever, man,” Minho lay back in the grass, joint hanging from his lips. Newt slowly let his eyes travel down Minho’s shirtless torso, beads of sweat gleaming in the moonlight. Newt couldn’t blame Thomas for being all over Minho.  _

_ Newt leaned forward, basically on top of Minho, to steal the joint from him. Minho’s arms replaced Thomas’s, pulling Newt flush against his bare chest. “Did you want something, Newton?” Newt laughed, taking the joint from Minho.  _

_ “Just wanted to say hello, darling,” Newt laughed, trying to free himself from Minho’s grasp. Minho’s arms tightened around him, keeping him in place. “Minho, you dick, let go.” _

_ “I’ll never let go, Jack,” Minho whispered, looking up at the stars. _

_ “Tommy, help,” Newt whined, still struggling against Minho’s grasp. He heard Thomas laughing behind him, and a heavy weight dropped onto Newt’s back. “Oof. Tommy, that’s not helping.” _

_ “It’s helping Minho,” Thomas pointed out his mouth moving against Newt’s neck. Newt realised that being high, half naked, sandwiched between two half naked hot boys was probably not going to work in his favour. He struggled against the pair again. _

_ “Hello? Gay dude smushed between two shirtless guys here!” Newt laughed, poking at Minho’s sides to get him to let go. Thomas laughed, rolling off of the pile and bringing Newt with him. Newt rolled his eyes, leaning back into Thomas’s embrace.  _

 

“When’s the surgery?” Newt asked, breaking the silence. Minho tore his eyes away from Thomas, letting out a soft sigh. 

“This afternoon,” Minho whispered. Newt’s stomach did several backflips, making him feel like he was going to throw up. “They said they had to do it before the bones started healing.”

“Is it safe?” Newt asked, feeling like the question was stupid. It obviously wasn’t safe, but Newt wanted some consolation that one of his friends would be alright. 

“I dunno, I mean, for my hand, no. For me, it’s really just a risk of bleeding and general surgery concerns, I guess. I probably won’t die.” Minho shrugged, patting Thomas on the arm. “We’re all gonna be okay. My hand will get better, and sleeping beauty will wake up, and then you two can get married and have two and a half kids.”

“You better not die. I’ll kill you if you do,” Newt threatened, a small smile playing at his lips. The door clicked open behind them again, this blonde nurse entering. 

“Mr. Park, we’re going to need to prepare you for your surgery.” She told them, clutching a clipboard in her arms. Minho nodded, pushing himself closer to Thomas’s face. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead. 

“I’m comin’ back Tommy, don’t ya worry. When I wake up, you better be making out with this loser over here, okay? I’m tired of you being out like this. And frankly, if something goes wrong up there, Newt’s gonna need you.” Minho whispered, quiet enough the Newt figured he wasn’t supposed to hear. 

The nurse grabbed Minho’s chair, and began to roll him away. He glanced at Newt as he passed, unspoken words passing between them. They left the room, and Newt felt all his emotions rush at him at once. 

 

_ Thomas’s fingers were tickling his sides, causing him to squirm around. Thomas’s hands covered his sides, pushing him backward on the couch. Thomas crawled on top of him, making his brain go fuzzy. He continued tickling Newt, the only difference now was every time Newt tried to get away, his groin would brush against Thomas’s thigh.  _

_ “Say it Newt,” Thomas said with a laughed. Newt pinched at Thomas’s sides, trying to make him stop.  _

_ “No, never!” Newt yelled, reaching down and pinching the back of Thomas’s knee. Thomas made a strange squealing noise and collapsed on top of Newt. Their bodies were aligned, every inch of them matched up. Newt struggled to breath properly, not from the weight, but from the close proximity of Thomas’s dick to his own. “You’re squishing me, get off!”  _

_ “No,” Newt turned his face to look at Thomas, who was laying face down. “Say it Newt,” Thomas turned his face to look at Newt, and- shit, they were kissing.  _

_ Thomas’s eyes went wide the second they pressed their lips together. Newt’s mind went through about sixteen emotions at once, only half of which were telling him to pull his head away. Newt hesitated, before ripping his mouth away and looking at the ceiling.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck, shit fuck. 

_ Thomas let out a laugh as Newt’s face flushed. “Say it,” He insisted, clearly oblivious to Newt’s panic.  _

_ “Thomas is my best friend in the whole fucking world, and he is a sex God,” Newt mumbled, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. He could practically hear Thomas smile triumphantly as he struggled to get up. He ended up straddling Newt for a moment, which continues to worsen the situation.  _

_ Thomas got off the couch, handing it to Newt. He started to apologise, but Newt waved him off. He patted the space beside him, continuing to avoid eye contact.  _ You should have gone for it Newt, _ he thought to himself. He glanced sideways at Thomas, who had his own bottle pressed to his lips.  _ Should've kissed the fucker. 

 

Newt felt a hand on his shoulder, causing him to sit up suddenly. He turned to find the blonde nurse from earlier standing beside him. “Sorry to wake you Mr. Isaacs, I just wanted to update you on Mr. Park’s condition.”

“He’s already in surgery? What time is it?” Newt glanced around the room, searching for a clock.

“Four O’clock. Mr. Park went into surgery about two hours ago.”

“Is he okay?”

“When the surgeons opened his arm, they found it in a state which they deemed unfixable. They chose to amputate. I’m sorry.” Newt’s brain seemed to slow down, unable to process the information. He blinked at her in confusion. “I will come and get you when he is in the recovery room.” 

Newt nodded slowly, watching her leave the room. She looked to Thomas once she reached the door. Her expression changed from an empathetic smile, to surprise and worry. “I’ll go get the doctor.” She said, quickly leaving the room.

Newt whipped his head back to Thomas, his eyes meeting Thomas’s. They were wide in horror, tears already threatening to spill from them. He tried to sit up, pulling at the tubes and cords attached to his body. 

“Tommy, hang on, stay still.” Newt stood up, pushing Thomas’s shoulders back onto the bed. Thomas hands immediately went to his chest, holding it in pain. “You’re okay. The doctor’s coming.” Thomas reached for the tube in his mouth, looking ready to pull it out. Newt grabbed his hand before he could do so, giving him a warning look.

The nurse came in the door again, accompanied by a tall doctor. The doctor smiled at Newt, and went to the other side of the bed. “Hello Thomas, my name is Doctor Trenton. Do you know where you are?” Thomas nodded, patting the tube in his mouth with his free hand. “Yes, we’ll take it out in a minute. Do you remember what happened?” Thomas held his hand out, tilting it from side to side. His grip on Newt’s hand was strong, but Newt wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“You suffered from a great deal of internal bleeding. Your heart stopped beating four times, but we were able to bring you back. We weren’t sure how much brain damage you suffered, though the fact that you woke up is a good sign.”

Thomas’s free hand went to Newt’s face, his fingers lightly hovering over the stitches in his cheek. He looked at the doctor curiously. “Mr. Isaacs also suffered from internal bleeding, and he has a concussion. He’ll be okay.” Thomas nodded again. He signalled with his hand, poorly indicating that he wanted to hear about Minho. 

“He wants to know about Minho.” Newt whispered, finally sitting back in his chair. 

“Mr. Park is in surgery right now. His injuries were not as substantial as either of yours, save for his arm. The bones in his arm were crushed, and the surgeons had no choice but to amputate.”

Thomas tried to sit up again, but Dr. Trenton held him down. Thomas squeezed Newt’s hand harder, and Newt could see Thomas’s heart rate pick up on the screen beside his bed. “Let’s get this thing out, okay?” Dr. Trenton asked, fingers on the tube. Thomas nodded, closing his eyes. “It’s going to feel a bit uncomfortable. Don’t try to talk once we take it out, okay?” Thomas nodded again.

As soon as the tube left Thomas’s mouth, he started coughing. Newt handed Thomas his own glass of water, letting him take small sips. “I-” Thomas whispered, his voice hoarse. Newt reached forward, placing his finger across Thomas’s lips to silence him. His hand was pushed away. “I, l-love you.” 

“Don’t talk Tommy, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Newt whispered, pushing Thomas’s hair out of his eyes. “Shh. Be careful, love.”

Thomas’s face flushed red, and he turned back to the doctor. “Are you in pain, Thomas?” He asked, writing something down on a clipboard. Thomas nodded, pulling his sheet down to his hips. “We’ll get you some morphine.” 

The nurse injected something into the IV in Thomas’s arm. Thomas grabbed his hospital gown, hiking it up so that his entire torso was exposed. 

The three, long vertical cuts that Thomas’s dad had inflicted were now sewn shut. The small strings hanging out the sides made it look like spider legs sticking out of Thomas’s chest. There was another cut in the middle of his chest, the Newt assumed the doctors had made when they were trying to revive him. His skin was littered with bruises, dark blue, nearly black. Thomas through his gown down quickly, avoiding eye contact with any of them. 

Dr. Trenton gave Thomas a sad smile, before returning to his clipboard. Thomas fiddled with the blankets, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Dr. Trenton left a few minutes later, along with the nurse who promised to check on Minho. 

Newt pushed himself off the chair carefully, shifting onto the edge of Thomas’s bed. Thomas scooted over, giving Newt some space, his eyes trained on the blanket. Newt sighed, untying the back of his own gown to reveal his cut. Thomas’s cool fingers traced the skin beside it. “I think you still look beautiful with those cuts, Tommy. They’re like sexy battle scars.”

Thomas flushed, grabbing the strings on Newt’s gown, and retying it for him. Newt grabbed his hands as he pulled away,bringing them into his lap. “Thought I was gonna lose you, Tommy.”

“‘s my fault,” Thomas whispered, clearing his throat. 

“What?”

“It’s my fault my dad found out about you. I-” Newt tried to quiet him, but Thomas was having none of it. “I should have just- just stayed straight or something.” 

“Thomas,” Newt reached out, taking Thomas’s face in his hand. “Don’t you  _ ever _ think that this is your fault. Your father is a bad man, Thomas, you and I both know he’s always been like this. There is nothing wrong with being gay Tommy, okay? Please don’t think that, darling.” 

Thomas’s eyes flickered up to meet Newt’s, fear evident in his dilated pupils. “You got hurt. Min- oh God- Min lost his arm. Fuck. Fuck this is my fault, Newt.”

“No one blames you for what happened. Not me, not Min, no one.” Newt shook his head, helping Thomas to sit up so he could pull him into a hug. “Minho was so scared you wouldn’t wake up. He wouldn’t let go of you when he was in here, was worse than me, I reckon. Point is, Tommy, we need you, and I don’t want you thinking this is your fault. Honestly, we don’t need two of us on antidepressants.”

“Oh- your meds, you’ve been taking them?” Thomas sat back quickly, eyes wide. He winced as he did so, clutching at his chest. Newt grabbed his back, holding him steady. Newt nodded, anxiously checking to make sure Thomas was alright. Thomas smiled at him, relief washing over his face. 

Newt smiled in return, his hands sliding down Thomas’s back to rest on his hips. He leaned forward, pausing when he was halfway to Thomas. His arms slid around Newt’s neck, pulling him close enough that their breath was mingling. Newt’s heart pounded in his chest, his palms clammy. 

“I want to talk about this later,” Thomas whispered, bumping his nose against Newt’s. Newt briefly wondered if Thomas wanted the same thing as him. Newt had been so blatantly flirting with him, even kissing him, yet Thomas only seemed to cower away from the actions. As Thomas’s lips pressed against his, Newt couldn’t help but wonder if Thomas actually liked him, or he was just using Newt as some form of comfort in the moment. 

Newt tried to convince himself that the latter wasn’t likely, though the urgency and roughness of Thomas’s kiss told him otherwise. Maybe Minho was wrong, and Thomas was just using him because he had no one else left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all... hope you enjoyed that :) Can only go up from here, right?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry you guys! I had two midterms this week! As an apology, i'll give you two things!  
> 1\. This chapter, with happy Newtmas :)  
> 2\. A playlist for this fic!  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/deanstylinson/playlist/7oOAy0SN7HzpsvbfblqcY4  
> Again, I'm so freaking sorry this is a day late! Enjoy ;)

Thomas’s hands were shaking. He shoved them under his thighs, trying to make them stop. The nurse slowly pushed the wheelchair down the hallway, following in behind Newt, and the other nurse. Thomas was sure they’d mentioned their names, but all Thomas could focus on right now was  _ Minho, Minho, Minho. _

The nurse wheeled him into the elevator. The wheel caught on the gap, bumping the chair. Thomas’s chest screamed in pain, and he let out an involuntary gasp. Newt’s head whipped around to look at him, but Thomas only blushed, looking down at his hands. Newt reached out, tangling his cold fingers with Thomas’s, as soon as they were parked next to each other in the elevator.

“He’ll be fine-” Newt began, but Thomas cut him off.

“No.”

“Tommy-”

“Stop Newt, I don’t want to hear it.” Thomas bit back, knowing he shouldn’t be so rude to Newt. Newt, who had stayed by his bedside for days. Newt, who had to suffer alone, while Thomas was unconscious, and Minho was in surgery. Newt, the boy Thomas was so, so in love with. 

None of that seemed to matter, as the elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors opened. 

“Boys, thank goodness!” A small, korean woman hurried down the hallway towards them. Behind her, a taller man with a kind face, and Aaliyah. Thomas saw Newt smile as Minho’s mother approached them.

“Hi Yuri,” Newt said quietly, throwing his arms around her shoulders. “I’m glad you guys made it.” Thomas figured Minho’s parents had only just arrived from America today, as Newt looked as if he hadn’t seen them yet. Yuri beamed at Thomas, and carefully pulled him into a hug. He tried his best to hug back, though lifting his arms at all caused tremendous pain.

“Thomas, I’m so glad you’re okay. I heard they were worried about whether or not you would wake up,” She ruffled his hair, and took a few steps backward. Aaliyah came forward, giving him a hug. 

“Minho’s gonna be so happy you’re awake,” She told him. He nodded, and turned to Mr. Park. 

“Is he awake yet?” Thomas asked, glancing at the door behind Mr. Park. 

“Yes, you boys can go in. We haven’t told him you’re awake, Thomas.” Mr. Park explained, stepping aside so that the nurses could wheel Thomas and Newt in. Newt went first, beaming as he was wheeled inside. 

“Hey Min,”

“Hi,” Minho’s voice was quiet and unsteady, like he was nervous. “How’s Tomboy?”

“I’ve seen better days,” Thomas laughed as he was wheeled into the room. Minho, who was laying in a hospital bed, turned his head towards Thomas at a neck-breaking pace. Thomas sent him a smile, to which Minho respond with a strangled look, one that Thomas had only seen a few times on the boy. “Oh God, no waterworks, please.”

“I thought we lost you,” Minho told him, his voice breaking. Minho reached out with his good arm, throwing it around Thomas’s shoulders as soon as he was close enough. Minho sniffled into Thomas’s shoulder, keeping his face buried. Thomas felt tears pricking at his eyes, and blinked them away rapidly.

“Thank you. You don’t deserve this,” Thomas whispered, not trusting his voice. Minho hugged him tighter, but it didn’t hurt as much as Thomas thought it would have. He glanced at Newt, still trying to blink the tears away, to find him doing the same. 

“Min, we’re gonna flood the bloody room,” Newt laughed, rubbing at his eyes. Minho scoffed, and pulled away from Thomas. 

“Thomas?”

“Hmm?”

“Your dad’s a dick,” Minho told him, straight faced. Thomas couldn’t help but scoff at the statement, which brought a bubble of laughter from Newt. Soon all three of them were laughing. To be honest, it hurt Thomas’s chest to laugh, but he could care less. 

“Seriously though, I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess,” Thomas told him, before looking at Newt. “Both of you.”

“Thomas, we love you,” Minho told him, placing his hand on Thomas’s forearm. “It’s not your fault.”

“Though,” Newt added, tapping his finger against his chin. “If I have to wear this damned hospital gown any longer, I might strangle ya.” Thomas laughed, and Minho rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure Thomas would have no problem getting you out of that thing,” Minho snorted, earning a blush from both boys.

\----------------------------------

*Two weeks later*

Thomas watched from the couch as Newt bent down to tie his shoes. He pretended he didn’t notice the gap between Newt’s laces, and his fingers that were trying to grasp them. Newt looked confused, though it wasn’t the first time Thomas had noticed this happening. 

Just last night, Newt had had trouble picking up his fork, his hand about two inches to the left. Thomas pretended he didn’t see. The doctor told Thomas this was likely to happen, along with a whole bunch of other symptoms that sounded like the side effects of Newt’s medications. The doctor told him to bring Newt back if it went on for more than a month. 

Newt stared at his shoes in frustration, nearly losing his balance in his bent over position. He looked up and met Thomas’s eyes, sending him a pleading look. Thomas sighed, carefully pushing himself to his feet. It still hurt. (More than he’d like to admit) 

He lowered himself onto his knees, tying the laces for Newt. “Thanks.” Newt whispered, holding out his hand to help Thomas to his feet. He held onto Thomas long enough to make sure he wouldn’t topple over. Thomas nodded, rubbing at his eyes sleepily, the memories of the night before burning his mind. 

 

_ Thomas and Newt were cleaning the bar, after closing. It was their second shift back, as Minho had just reopened. Newt was near the booths, sweeping underneath the tables. Thomas kept stealing glances at the blond as he wiped the counters.  _

_ Newt met his eyes, sticking out his tongue. Thomas laughed, tossing the cloth across the bar. His chest would have screamed in pain, had Thomas not had a few drinks that night. Newt picked up the cloth, sauntering over to Thomas with a mischievous glint in his eye.  _

_ Newt slung the cloth around Thomas’s neck, sending him a smirk. “Want to go on a date?” _

_ “What?” Thomas whispered, hands instinctively going to Newt’s waist.  _

_ “Tomorrow night, seven thirty.” Newt shrugged, letting the cloth slip from around Thomas’s neck. “You’re not busy, and Minho gave us weekends off, since it’s too much effort.” _

_ “Okay,” Thomas nodded, stealing the cloth from Newt and wiping the counter again. _

_ “If you’re lucky,” Newt whispered, pressing right up against Thomas’s back to whisper in his ear. “I might even take you back to my place.” Thomas laughed , his head dropping forward. _

_ “I heard your roommate’s pretty hot,” He laughed, swatting Newt with the cloth. _

_ “Yeah, he-” Newt was cut off by a loud crash above them. Newt turned towards the stairs fast enough that he lost his balance. Thomas caught him before he completely fell over, steadying him before walking to the stairs. They made it to the top, walking straight into Minho’s apartment. “Min?” _

_ The kitchen floor was covered in shards of ceramic, and half cooked pasta. The burner was still on, the pot lying on the floor. Water drenched the floor, the cupboards, and the oven. Thomas quickly moved to turn the burner off, while Newt went to the bathroom, where the trail of pasta led. Minho let out a shout as Newt entered. Thomas heard glass shatter, and yells from both boys. _

_ He hurried to the washroom, finding what might have been the most heartbreaking scene Thomas had ever seen. Pieces of the mirror were everywhere, covering the sink, and the floor. Newt was kneeling in front of Minho, holding him tightly. Minho sobbed into Newt’s shoulder. He was shirtless, covered in large red blisters. In his hand, he was holding a shard of the mirror, squeezing it tightly.  _

_ “I hate this! I wish I died,” Minho sobbed, squeezing the shard of glass tighter. A steady flow of blood began to flow from his hand. “I want my hand back.” Thomas stepped forward, grabbing a towel as he did so, and knelt behind Newt. _

_ He pried the glass from Minho’s hand, quickly applying the towel to the cut. “Shh,” Newt whispered, stroking Minho’s hair while leaning back against Thomas. “Min, you’re fine. You’re going to be okay.” _

_ Minho opened his eyes to meet Thomas’s. For a moment, Thomas thought he might yell at him, blame him for everything. The softness in his eyes, however, told a different story. “I don’t regret what I did. And I certainly don’t blame you, Tomboy, but I wish I didn’t have to go through this learning thing.” _

_ “Min, you don’t need to do everything by yourself, we’re here to help you.” Minho nodded, closing his eyes again. “Let’s get you to bed, okay?” Minho nodded, nuzzling his face into Newt’s shoulder. Thomas wrapped his hand tighter, and they slowly brought Minho to his feet. They got him changed, and into bed, sitting with him until he was nearly asleep.  _

_ “I’m scared for him,” Newt whispered, leaning against Thomas’s chest as they stood in the kitchen, cleaning up. Thomas pulled the boy in closer, resting his chin on Newt’s head. He pressed a soft kiss to Newt’s hair, before pulling back slightly. Newt looked up at him, eyes filled with tears.  “We really need to talk about some things, and I was hoping we could do that tomorrow.”  _

_ Thomas nodded, pulling at a lock of golden hair. Newt smiled softly at him, tilting his head. Thomas smiled back, his thumb moving against Newt’s hipbone. “I love you,” Thomas whispered, resting his forehead against Newt’s. _

_ “Kiss me,” Newt pleaded. Thomas did. Thomas kissed him like it was his only chance, like he would never get to hold Newt in his arms again. _

 

“Where are we going?” Thomas asked as Newt led him down the street. Their hands were clasped together, swinging in between them. 

“Where would you like to go?” Newt asked, leading them into the nearby park. Thomas brought Newt’s hand to his mouth, leaving a soft kiss there. 

“I’d like to go to Rome,” Thomas told him, following him toward the fountain in the middle of the park. 

“I’ll take you there someday,” Newt promised. “It might take a few decades to save up, but we’ll get there.” Thomas smiled.

“Where do you want to go?” Thomas asked as they sat down on the edge of the fountain. Newt put his arm around Thomas’s shoulder, letting Thomas lean into him. 

“Tokyo, maybe.” Thomas nodded, trying to work out just how much he’d need to save to get Newt there by Christmas time. They sat in silence for a few moments, both lost in thought. 

“I love you,” Thomas whispered.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because I like telling you that.”

“Why?” Newt’s tone was both accusatory, and insecure. 

“What do you mean, ‘why’?” Newt let his arm drop from Thomas’s shoulder, clasping his hands together in his lap.

“I’m confused. I-I don’t know what this is,” He whispered, his eyes on the water in front of them.

“What do you think it is?” Thomas asked, nerves working their way around his abdomen. “Or- what do you want it to be?”

“A lot.” Newt whispered, keeping his head bowed. “I want so much from this, but I’m scared, Tommy.”

“Of what?” Thomas knew better than to divert the topic, so he pushed it forward.

“The difference in our feelings, I guess.” Newt sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Remember when you kissed me? When I came out to you, and you wanted to see if you were gay too?”

“I thought that was the tell-all. I thought I’d know after that,” Thomas paused for a moment, before letting out a laugh. “Funny enough, that’s exactly what happened. Guess it was just a delayed reaction.”

Newt smiled at that, keeping his head cast downwards. “I fell in love with you that day,” Thomas’s heart, and stomach, and brain, and all of his organs did a somersault. “And I never stopped. That’s ten years Thomas. You can’t even begin to imagine what that did to me. To be honest, I’m really not sure you do love me like you think you do. It scares me that you might realise that there’s all these other boys out there, and leave me back where we started.”

“I want to walk down the street and hold your hand,” Thomas admitted, desperate to prove to Newt that he wanted this. He really wanted this. For as long as he could possibly have it.. “I want to eat take out in our underwear, and then make out while watching some foreign movie neither of us can understand. I want to buy a house with a big fireplace, just so we can curl up in front of it with tea, while you read me your favorite stories. I want to marry you and have a winter wedding, just so the snowflakes can sit in your hair, because it’s honestly the most breath-taking thing. Newt, I’ve been in love before, but it’s never, ever been like this. It’s so much stronger than i’ve ever felt for anyone, or anything. I would never, ever leave you for some random guy that I don’t even know.”

“How about a summer wedding with fake snow? Real snow is too cold.” Newt whispered quietly, hands coming to Thomas’s face to wipe the tears away, which Thomas hadn’t even realised were flowing. Thomas nodded, emitting a small, breathy laugh. “How can you even know you want those things, you’ve only been gay for what- two months?”

“I’ve always thought about those things,” Thomas shrugged, smiling. “I always wanted us to get a bigger house, where you could read to me in front of a fireplace. Sometimes I would find myself wanting to grab your hand while we were walking, even when we were kids. I’ve always admired the way you look with snow sitting in your hair. And eating take out in front of shitty movies is my favorite thing we do together, the making out part would just be a bonus.” 

“Sounds like a dream come true to me,” Newt laughed, leaning forward to press a delicate kiss to Thomas’s lips. Thomas smiled against them, before pulling back to rest his forehead against Newt’s. “Did that guy fuck you?” Newt asked quietly, not meeting Thomas’s eyes.

“No. Newt, of course not. He sucked me off, sure, but nothing more.” Thomas assured him, moving his hands up and down Newt’s arms. “Jealous?”

“Extremely,” Newt laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Thomas’s lips. “So, boyfriends?” Thomas’s heart fluttered at the word, a blush spreading over his face.

“Well i’d hope so, we did just plan out our wedding,” Thomas pointed out, making Newt laugh.

“God, I love you Thomas Murphy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, you're welcome :D  
> This fic is almost done you guys! What other ships would you guys like to see me write next? I'm really big on Malec atm, so that's definitely going to happen, but what else do you guys want? From any fandom!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh, I'm really really sorry OMG you guys! I still love you all, don't worry!   
> Sorry if this chapter sucks, I don't know how to write this stuff, but i'm trying!

The door hit the wall with a harsh slam, causing Thomas to nearly fall off the couch. He sat up quickly, looking toward the source of the noise. Newt skipped into the living room, an exaggerated smile on his face. He had been at the hospital that afternoon, as both he and Minho needed follow up appointments.

“Guess what?” Newt asked brightly, plopping himself on the couch beside Thomas. He dropped a white paper bag on Thomas’s lap. 

“What’s that, love?” Thomas asked, opening the bag. He reached his hand inside, grasping at a plastic cylinder. 

“I have to take three more pills a day!” Thomas pulled the pill bottle out of the bag, reading the side for instructions. He did the same with the other two.

“What are they for?” Thomas asked, lining them up on the coffee table. Newt sighed, the fake smile gone from his face. 

“This one,” Newt said, pointing to the first bottle. “Is to help with the dizziness, and the depth perception. This one,” he pointed to the middle bottle, tapping it on the lid. “Is for the headaches I didn’t tell you I was having.” Thomas shot Newt a glare. “And the last one is because the first one clashes with one of my other meds.”

“Did the Doc say anything else?” Thomas asked, putting his arm over Newt’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

“Only that I’ve got Post-Concussion Syndrome. He said it should go away within a couple months.” Newt pressed a soft kiss to Thomas’s neck.

“How’d Min’s appointment go?” 

“They fit him for his prosthetic today. Should be getting it in a couple weeks.”

“I can’t believe that was a month ago,” Thomas’s whispered into Newt’s hair. Newt’s hand settled on his thigh, fingers moving up and down. “Feels like yesterday.” Newt started kissing Thomas’s neck again, this time with more force. Thomas let out a tiny gasp when Newt pulled a bit of the skin between his teeth.

“Tommy?” Newt whispered against his neck, just under his ear.

“Hmm?”

“How’s your chest?”

“Muscular,” Thomas groaned as Newt moved to his earlobe. Newt bit down, signifying his annoyance. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt. Why?” Newt was kissing along his jaw now, featherlight kisses making his brain shut off.

“Was thinking,” Newt shifted, his body leaning into Thomas, pushing him back on the couch. “Since we’re both  _ physically _ better,” his leg swung over Thomas’s. He situated himself on Thomas’s lap, grinding their crotches together. Thomas wasn’t surprised to find they were both hard. “We could have some fun.” 

Thomas’s hand went to the back of Newt’s neck, pulling their mouths together. Thomas’s brain went fuzzy the second their lips slid against one another. His hands grasped Newt’s hips, grip hard enough to bruise. Newt’s hands were sliding down his neck, over his chest, pressing him further against the couch.

Thomas pried Newt’s mouth open with his own, gasping as he did so. Newt’s hands traveled over his stomach, tracing his abs through his shirt. Thomas slid one hand around Newt’s waist, grabbing his ass, pulling their crotches closer together. Newt gasped, pulling back, resting his forehead against Thomas’s.

Thomas took this opportunity to flip them over on the couch, pinning Newt underneath him. He rolled his body against Newt’s, who let out a low groan, gripping Thomas’s shoulders. “Tommy,” Thomas moved to Newt’s neck, kissing every inch he could. He tested the area, trying to find Newt’s sweet spot. 

Newt emitted a small gasp once Thomas had almost reached his collar bone. Thomas smiled against Newt’s skin, pressing a light kiss to the area. He bit down, sucking the skin into his mouth. “Tommy,” Newt whimpered, pulling at the hem of Thomas’s shirt. “Off.”

Thomas sat up, making sure to shift his hips as he did so. Newt sat up with him, rucking Thomas’s shirt up to his chest. Thomas lifted his arms, allowing Newt to pull his shirt over his head. Newt tossed it to the side, running his fingers over the fresh scars on Thomas’s chest.

Time moved in slow motion as Newt examined the scars. He traced his fingers delicately across each one, following the pattern that the stitches had taken. Thomas stared at the window in front of him, trying hard not to think about the scars. He hated them. It sounded cliché, but Thomas had worked so hard to get his body in perfect shape. The scars ruined it all.

Newt pushed him back on the couch, shifting so he was settled in between Thomas’s legs. He smirked at Thomas, rubbing his hands over Thomas’s thighs. Thomas shifted on the couch, reaching out for Newt as he did so. Newt swatted his hands away, giving Thomas a warning look. He reached down pulling his shirt up slower than Thomas thought possible.

Thomas rolled his hips against Newt’s urging him to continue. Newt raised his eyebrows, dropping his shirt again. He leaned forward, hands on either side of Thomas’s head. His lips hovered above Thomas’s, eyes holding a certain warning to them. “I don’t know where you got the impression that you were in charge here, Thomas,” Newt murmured, tone low. “But clearly,” Newt ran his tongue over the length of Thomas’s neck leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. “I’m the one calling the shots. Understood?”

Thomas nodded hurriedly, leaning up to capture Newt’s lips with his own. Newt pulled back, pressing against Thomas’s chest with one of his hands. Thomas looked up at him curiously, letting his head fall back against the couch. Newt rolled his hips against Thomas’s, before sitting up completely again. “Bedroom?” Thomas gasped, gripping Newt’s hips.

“Good plan,” Newt nodded, sliding his hands under Thomas’s thighs. Thomas took the hint, wrapping his legs around Newt’s waist. Newt leaned down, allowing Thomas to slide his arms around Newt’s neck as their lips pressed together again.

Thomas gasped when Newt lifted him off the couch, his hands cupping Thomas’s ass. He rolled his hips against Newt’s, or he tried to, as the angle was all off. “God, Tommy,” Newt breathed, nearly tripping over the coffee table. “You’re gonna give me another concussion.” 

Newt carried him towards Newt’s bedroom, stopping right outside the door. He pushed Thomas up against the wall, biting at his neck. “Newt, I think you missed the bed,” Thomas let out a breathy laugh, tangling his hand in Newt’s hair. 

“Sorry, got dizzy,” Newt replied, licking along Thomas’s collarbone. “Just give me a minute.” Thomas pulled Newt’s hair, causing him to look back up. He pressed their mouths together with urgency still trying to roll his hips against Newts, craving much more friction than his jeans were allowing.

“Take your time,” Thomas whispered, pulling back from Newt, resting their foreheads together. Newt nodded, pressing a small kiss to the end of Thomas’s nose. 

“I love you, y’know,” Newt whispered, letting go of Thomas with one hand. He cupped Thomas’s cheek, kissing him deeply. Thomas got lost in it, letting his senses take over. He focused on the pads of Newt’s fingertips, the way they moved against his skin, splayed themselves over him, trying to touch all if him at once. He indulged in the feeling of Newt’s tongue against his own, tasting each other. Goosebumps arose on Thomas’s skin, shivers running from each of his nerves. 

Softness suddenly surrounded him. He opened his eyes, finding Newt had managed to get them to his bed without Thomas noticing. Newt’s hands were all over his body, scratching at every inch of skin he could. One of his hands trailed downwards, over his waistband, to cup him through his jeans. 

Thomas’s mind went blank. All he knew was Newt, and Newt’s hand on his crotch. Thomas moaned, bucking his hips into Newt’s hand. “This is okay, right?” Newt whispered, his lips next to Thomas’s ear. 

“Yeah, Newt. Please,” Thomas gasped, pulling on Newt’s shirt again. 

“Please what?” Newt licked the shell of his ear, before biting down on the earlobe. Thomas stuttered, trying to find words. “Please what, Thomas?”

“Take your shirt off,” Thomas breathed, sliding his hands down to Newt’s belt buckle. 

“Eager, are we?” Newt smirked, sitting up as Thomas managed to unclasp the belt. “Are you sure that’s all you want?” Newt reached over his shoulder, hurriedly pulling his shirt off. He tossed it to the side, giving Thomas a minute to pull the belt from the loops. As soon as it came free, Newt leaned down, pressing his lips to Thomas’s once again.

Thomas wrapped one arm around Newt’s waist, flipping them over, pinning Newt underneath him. “There’s a lot more I want, Newt.” Thomas whispered, grabbing one of Newt’s hands. He pushed it above the blond’s head, where the other hand had already landed when he flipped them. He held Newt’s wrists together with one hand, pressing their mouths together again.

Their hot breath mingled, teeth clashing against each other. “Tell me what you want then,” Newt gasped, rolling his hips up to meet Thomas’s. Thomas smirked, taking the belt which was still in his hand, and wrapping it around Newt’s wrists. Newt’s eyes went wide, his mouth going slack. Thomas quickly tied Newt’s hands to the headboard, before sitting back to admire his work.

Newt struggled against the belt half heartedly. He rolled his hips at a steady pace, a constant stream of moans falling from his lips. “This okay?” Thomas asked, leaning down to press small kisses to Newt’s chest.

“More than,” Newt gasped, still pulling at the belt. Thomas kissed down Newt’s chest, and over his abs. Newt’s moans got louder as Thomas got lower. Thomas opened the button on Newt’s jeans, pulling the zipper down quickly. Newt lifted his hips, allowing Thomas to pull his jeans down.

“Now who’s the eager one?” Thomas teased, mouthing over Newt’s boxers. Thomas honestly had no idea what he was doing. He tried to remember things that felt good when he’d gotten blown, but it was hard to think of anything other than Newt. Newt’s hips bucked up against his face. Thomas glanced up at Newt, trying to make an alluring expression, but it probably just came across looking terrified.

“You’re fine,” Newt told him. Thomas grasped the waistband of Newt’s boxers. “Honestly, Tommy you-” Thomas pulled Newt’s boxers down quickly, not giving himself a chance to back out. Newt’s erection sprang free, already leaking precum. “God, Tommy.”

Thomas looked up at Newt again. His eyes were hooded, mouth slightly open. Sweat formed in beads on his forehead, and his chest. He looked wrecked already. Thomas smirked, gaining a boost of confidence from the knowledge that he was making Newt look and act this way.

Thomas pressed a soft kiss to Newt’s hip, before trailing kisses lower. He licked a strip along the underside of Newt’s cock, from base to tip. Newt immediately let out a loud groan, bucking his hips into the air. Thomas smirked again, placing his arm over Newt’s hips to hold him in place. 

Newt groaned in frustration, pushing against Thomas’s arm. “The longer you struggle, the longer I’ll wait.” Newt’s hips stilled as he let out another, softer moan. Thomas hovered over Newt, letting his breath his the tip of Newt’s penis. Newt gasped, pulling at the belt again. 

“Thomas I swear to God-” Thomas cut him off by putting his mouth around his cock. He suckled at the head, too nervous to go further. Newt seemed to appreciated the act, however, and bucked his hips up, pushing more of his cock into Thomas’s mouth. “Shit, Tommy.”

Thomas decided now was the best time to face his fears. He pushing his head down, taking almost all of Newt’s member into his mouth. The head hit the back of Thomas’s throat, and he pulled back slightly, before he choked. Newt seemed to appreciate the movement, his back arching upwards. 

Thomas moaned around Newt’s cock, which caused Newt to throw his head back. Thomas continued to move his head up and down, his free hand working the base of Newt’s cock. “Stop, Tommy,” Newt panted. Thomas pulled off quickly, worried he’d done something. “Too close,” he explained, chest heaving. Thomas nodded, sliding back up Newt’s chest to press their lips together. Newt moaned at the contact, pulling on the belt.

Thomas sat up, untying the belt. As soon as Newt’s hands were free, they grabbed Thomas, pulling their bodies together again. Newt’s hands travelled down his back, to his waistband. They trailed to his button, popping it open quickly. His hands stilled, asking for permission to continue. 

“Newt- Newt, I want you inside of me.” Thomas murmured against the blond’s lips, his face immediately heating up. Newt pulled his zipper down, and helped him out of his jeans. 

“Are you sure? The first time hurts,” Newt explained, pressing kisses to Thomas’s jaw. Thomas nodded slightly, rolling them so that Newt hovered over him. “I can bottom if you want Tommy.”

“Mister Macho Top over here, offering to bottom?” Thomas teased, pulling Newt’s hips down to meet his. The skin-on-skin contact drove Thomas mad. The feeling of Newt’s erection sliding against his was intoxicating. 

“I’m versatile,” Newt supplied, sitting up and reaching over to his bedside table. He pulled a tube out of the drawer, and held it up for Thomas to see.  _ Lube. _ “You sure?” Thomas nodded, adjusting his legs so they were on either side of Newt’s hips. Newt smiled down at him, before uncapping the bottle. “This might feel- weird.”

Newt spread some of the lube over his fingers, and tossed the bottle to the side. He lowered his hand between Thomas’s thighs, concentrating on what he was doing. Thomas jumped in surprise when Newt’s finger brushed against the tight muscle. “You okay?” Newt asked, circling his finger around. Thomas nodded, holding Newt’s biceps. 

“It’s just cold,” Thomas muttered, his heart racing. 

“You need to relax, Tommy,” Newt coaxed, trailing his finger down towards Thomas’s balls, and then back to his hole. Thomas pushed the tension from his body, enough for Newt to push his finger into Thomas. It felt weird, Newt was right. A weird intrusion like it wasn’t really supposed to be there, but Thomas couldn’t help but want more. He moaned, begging Newt to keep going. 

Newt slid his finger all the way in, but it still felt weird. Thomas pushed back against Newt’s hand, encouraging him. Newt began to slowly pump his finger, bringing it all the way out, before pushing it back in. Thomas still didn’t know how this was supposed to feel good.

But then Newt curled his finger inside Thomas, and all his nerves exploded. He arched his back off the bed, letting out a loud gasp. Thomas met Newt’s eyes, seeing a smirk on his face. Newt pulled his finger out, two entering this time. 

Thomas clutched at the bedsheets, his heels digging into the mattress as Newt continued to hit that spot. “Newt-” He gasped, throwing his head back. He barely noticed when Newt slid a third finger in. “God Newt, please.”

“Please what, Tommy?” Newt teased, quickly pumping his fingers, continuously hitting that spot that made Thomas’s mind go numb. Thomas thought he might be able to come untouched. 

“Please fuck me,” Thomas moaned, hips grinding down on Newt’s hand. Newt’s fingers left him, and he whined at the loss of contact. Newt let out a quiet laugh, fiddling with a foil packet. Thomas watched Newt put the condom on, spreading a bit of lube over himself. He leaned forward, lining himself up, and leaning over Thomas so their lips were almost together again.

“You’re totally sure?” Newt asked softly, one hand resting by Thomas head. Thomas nearly rolled his eyes. 

“Newt, yes.” Thomas murmured, pressing his lips softly against Newt’s in a kiss that didn’t fit the situation at all. Newt smiled against his lips, making him melt. 

“I love you Tommy,” Newt whispered, moving to rest his forehead against Thomas’s shoulder. He pushed into Thomas slowly, so slowly Thomas wanted to scream at him to go faster. He knew, however, that that would probably hurt. It felt strange to be stretched so wide, but definitely not bad. If Newt could just hit that spot again...

Newt stopped once he was completely inside Thomas, breathing heavy. “Tell me when it’s okay,” Newt whispered, peppering light kisses to Thomas’s collar bone. I between each kiss he whispered an “I love you.” This was so different to Thomas’s previous experience with sex. Normally it involved a quick fuck in a dingy bathroom, or fumbling hands under a blanket in a stranger’s dark bedroom. This was so, so much better, and Thomas felt himself getting addicted already.

“Move,” he whispered, shifting his hips. Newt pressed one more kiss to his chest before pulling almost all the way out of Thomas. He pushed in again slowly, too slowly in Thomas’s opinion, carefully bottoming out. “Newt, I’m not made of glass.” 

Newt laughed at this, pulling Thomas closer by the hips, thrusting faster. Thomas threw his head back, moaning at the feeling. It burned slightly, but he didn’t want it to stop. Newt tugged on his hips again, shifting him. The next time he thrust into Thomas, he hit his prostate, earning a loud moan from Thomas. 

Newt continued to thrust, making Thomas see stars. “God Newt, I’m so close already...” Thomas groaned, slamming his hips down to meet Newt’s. He could feel the familiar heat building in his lower stomach. One of Newt’s hands moved from his hip, to his cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. 

It only took three strokes before Thomas was coming all over their stomachs. His muscles clenched, and he let out a yell. Newt followed quickly, letting out a loud moan. They rode out their orgasm together. 

Newt stopped when they became too sensitive, pulling out and collapsing onto Thomas. Thomas groaned, threading one of his hands through Newt’s damp hair. Newt looked up at him, a small smile on his face. 

“So...?” Newt asked, tracing a finger down Thomas’s chest. 

“So what?”

“How was it?” Newt asked, exasperated. 

“Fantastic, you dumbass.” Thomas laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to Newt’s head. Newt blushed, his smile growing wider. He looked beautiful like that, and Thomas was so, so in love. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah okay there. There ya go. Was it okay?   
> Next chapter is the last one you guys, I might actually cry when it's over. Anything you want to see in the last chapter? I have a general idea, but if there's anything you want cleared up, or any thing you want more of (other than kissing, I'm well aware we all want more of that) just let me know.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cried writing this. I cried re-reading this. This is sad, and the end, and i'm sorry.

***About Two Years Later***

 

Thomas’s back was killing him. He was officially an old man. He was going to have to convince Newt to buy them rocking chairs for their front porch, so Thomas could yell at kids to get off their lawn. The four of them, Newt, Minho, Aaliyah, and himself, sat in a circle on the floor, boxes stacked around them.

Newt opened the pair of pizza boxes which sat in the middle of them, grabbing a slice for himself and Thomas. He handed one to Thomas, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Gross,” Minho complained, smacking Newt on the knee with his prosthetic hand. 

“Ow,” Newt yelped, giving him a shove in return. “That thing hurts y’know.”

“I know, why do you think I kept ‘accidentally’ smacking it into people when I first got it?” Thomas laughed at this, leaning his head on Newt’s shoulder.

“Thanks for helping out you guys,” Thomas said through a mouthful of pizza. “You made a three day move condense into about six hours.” 

“No problem boys,” Aaliyah smiled, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I hope you don’t mind if we crash on your floor, though, I  don’t think I can make it to the door, let alone all the way home.” 

The group sat in silence for a few moments, eating their well-deserved pizza. Thomas glanced at Newt, smiling when he saw he was already being stared at. “Hey you,” Thomas whispered, pressing a kiss to Newt’s cheek. 

“Gross, again. I think we’ll have to leave, Liyah, these two might just have sex here and now.” Minho groaned, grabbing his third slice of pizza. 

“Honestly, do you ever stop eating?” Aaliyah laughed, turning to face Newt and Thomas. “Seriously though, we’ll leave in a bit, you guys can consummate the marriage or whatever.”

“Marriage?” Newt’s voice raised a few octaves. Thomas thought it was incredible, that after only two years, he had managed to turn Newt into a stuttering mess at any mention of furthering their relationship. 

“Yes, to your new house, dear Newton,” She said exasperatedly. Newt laughed, looking around the relatively empty living room. Thomas watched the way his eyes flickered, eyelashes fluttering, a smile spreading across his face. Their eyes met, and Thomas smiled back. Newt’s eyes trailed down Thomas’s chest, then paused, something in his face changing. Thomas looked down to see a small portion of one of his scars sticking out. He quickly adjusted his shirt, looking away.

“I still have nightmares,” Newt whispered suddenly, looking at his hands. They all watched him for a moment, unsure whether or not he would continue. When he didn’t, Minho stepped up.

“Newt, you have every right to, but I thought you were taking meds for those.” Newt looked up sharply, hands clenching into fists. 

“Minho, do you know how many meds I’m on now?” 

“We’re all on meds, Newt-”

“How many Min? How many are you on?” Newt questioned, his muscles going tense. Thomas quickly thought back to this morning, trying to remember if Newt had taken all his medications that he needed. He took them all this morning, but missed the one at lunch. That wouldn’t be affecting his mood, however.  

“Three.”

“And you Aaliyah?”

“Just the one. Newt are you okay?” She answered, looking at Thomas as she did so. It wasn’t like this was unexpected, or anything new in the least, in fact it had been getting worse recently. 

“And you Tommy?”

“Four.” He whispered, not looking at Newt. He  _ hated  _ this. He hated that half of these outbursts were caused by that one day with his father. He hated that it would hit Newt later, having said words he didn’t mean, and he have to hold him until he stopped crying and apologising. 

“I wish I didn’t have to take them,” Newt whispered. Thomas had a feeling this was going in an entirely new direction, and it wasn’t just some outburst. There was no yelling, no panic attack, nothing like usual. “It’s like, if I don’t take six pills in the morning, one at lunch, two before dinner, three at dinner, and two before bed, i’ll die. And it’s not my fault, or your fault, it’s just the way my body is, but I hate it.”

Thomas grabbed Newt’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles. “Maybe we should talk about it,” Thomas suggested, looking to Minho. It was something they hadn’t done, not sense they’re group therapy sessions they were forced into. (Those only lasted a month, because frankly there was too much goofing off going on.) Minho had a strange look on his face, but nodded, something that surprised Thomas.

“I can go first,” Aaliyah suggested, folding up the pizza boxes as she did so. Thomas got to his feet, walking over to the fireplace (already fit with a log) and lighting it with his lighter. He sat back down, this time behind Newt, so that the boy could lean on him. 

“I know I wasn’t actually in the room with you guys or anything, but just standing at the door and seeing it happening was traumatizing.” She started, her voice shaking slightly. “I mean we could hear you screaming as we walked up to the door, but then when it opened, it really just hit me. I actually thought Newt was dead, to be honest. The way Thomas was laying over him, with Thomas’s father holding a bloody knife, I honestly thought there was no way Newt could still be alive. 

“Minho told me to go, and I just ran. By the time I got to the street, the ambulance and cops were already there. I told them where you guys were, but they wouldn’t let me come back up. When they brought Thomas out, I threw up. I couldn’t see his cuts from the doorway, but it all hit me at once. I’m fairly sure I passed out after that, because I don’t remember what happened after that. The scary thing is, no one told me I passed out, and I don’t remember being in a hospital bed, it’s like that whole chunk of my memory is missing.

“I’m still having nightmares too. I can’t watch anything on TV with blood or gore, or zombies. Even just hearing people screaming sends my brain spinning. It’s terrifying that I can’t even walk down a street without wanting to throw up.” She finished, staring at her fingers. Thomas understood. He thought it was strange how traumatic something could before someone who barely even experience it. 

“Phantom Limb syndrome is this thing where you can still feel your arm or your leg after it’s been cut off. It still gets itchy, and you still feel like it’s there.” Minho explained, leaning back on his good arm. “Sometimes, when I wake up in the middle of the night, I forget. I try to move it, or lean on it, but I just fall over and freak out. It’s like the first time waking up without it all over again. Sometimes, I can still feel my bones turning to powder in my arm.

“No matter how many times I wake up in terror, or get flashbacks of seeing your dying bodies, I’m not going to regret what I did. It scares me that you, both of you, but especially Thomas, might feel guilty for what happened. I ran in there because I saw my two best friends being tortured and killed for who they are, and the only thing that went through my mind was ‘kill that bastard.’” Minho laughed, his eyes squinting in a full smile. 

“I think the thing that keeps me up at night most often, is the what ifs. What if we hadn’t been coming over? What if we hadn’t got there in time? What if Liyah came in after me, instead of running? What if one, or both of you died? And I know it’s stupid to think like that, because damn it, you’re all alive, but I can’t stop. It’s like I don’t actually believe we made it out of there.”

He was crying, as was Thomas. Thomas got it, he kept thinking this was all a dream. One that they wouldn’t wake up from, because they were all dead. It didn’t make sense to him how anyone of them, especially Thomas, could have survived that night. 

“I keep waking up screaming,” Newt told Aaliyah and Minho. “Which is hard on me, because I keep waking Thomas up, who probably thinks I’m getting attacked again.” It did, but Thomas kept telling him it didn’t, that he didn’t break down in tears every time Newt fell back asleep. “These nightmares I’m having, they’re not even about that night. I know they’re triggered by it, but you guys aren’t in it.

“Usually, it’s just me. I think the only good thing that really came out of it, was I realised I don’t actually want to die. These nightmares I keep having are just different ways that I could die. Over and over again, until I have to scream myself awake. 

“And then there’s this damn post-concussive syndrome. It usually only lasts like a month or so, but here I am, two years later, and I can’t even tie my shoes. The doctors have no explanation for why it’s not going away, so they just keep piling these pills on. Honestly, I’m a walking pharmacy.”

Thomas let out a sob, pulling Newt closer to his chest. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, and Newt squirmed in his arms, trying to face him. “I feel so guilty,” Thomas sobbed. Newt stiffened in his embrace, grabbing Thomas’s thigh. “That’s the worse part, y’know. It’s not the nightmares, or the pain of my chest ripping open again and again, it’s the fucking guilt. 

“Everyone keeps saying ‘it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault,’ but we all know it is. It’s my fault that I decided to come out to my dad, when I knew he was an abusive prick who would react like this. He told me he would try to kill Newt, but I just ignored it. Damn it you guys, I’m so fucking sorry.”

Newt started to say something, but Thomas pressed on, not wanting to hear. “I used to regret being gay, I hated where it got us. I know now that that’s not my fault, or anyone’s fault, and I’m so glad that I am because-” He pressed a kiss to Newt’s head, rubbing his hands up and down Newt’s arms.

“I feel guilty because Aaliyah can’t remember a few hours of her life, because she thought we were dying and went into shock. I can’t believe how scary that must be, to just have part of your life missing like that. So Aaliyah, I’m so sorry that you got dragged into this mess like that, and have to suffer the consequences of something that doesn’t even involve you.

“Min,” His voice caught in his throat when he met Minho’s eyes. “Fuck. Fuck Minho you lost your fucking arm because of me.”

“Please continue with your in-depth use of the English language Tomboy,” Minho interrupted, trying to smirk at him. It came out as more of a grimace, pulling at Thomas’s heart strings. 

“I’m so sorry you had to run in there and help us. I’m sorry you’re still suffering because of it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you before you had your surgery, too. Minho, the night you spilt the pasta in your apartment, and broke the mirror, was almost as bad for me, as the night of the attack. I realised I couldn’t help you, even though I put you in that situation, and I’m so fucking sorry.” Minho looked down at the floor, tears dripping down onto the hardwood. 

“Newt-”

“Please don’t Tommy.” Newt’s voice was small. Thomas turned him around in his arms, so that they were facing each other. 

“I have to, darling.” Newt glued his eyes to the scars on Thomas’s chest, and this time Thomas didn’t adjust his shirt. “I’m so, so sorry. I don’t even know where to start with you. I’m sorry for how long it took me to realise I was in love with you. I’m sorry I strung you along for years.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything about your depression before it was too late.” Something in Newt’s face changed, panic spreading across it. “You told me about it, about how you felt about so many things, and I did nothing. I let you suffer through that, without getting you help, and in the end, it almost cost me your life. The worst part is, I still don’t know why you jumped.”

“I was gay and in love with my straight best friend.” Newt whispered. 

Thomas’s heart plummeted, Minho’s face paled. It was the first time Newt had even talked about it. Thomas couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think straight. Newt looked nervous, like he hadn’t meant to say it. “It’s not your fault, though. Tommy it was the fact that I was gay and no one would ever love me, it wasn’t that you didn’t. Please don’t think that Thomas, oh my God i’m so sorry. Shit.”

“I-” Thomas still couldn’t find any words. He had thought that was probably part of it, but Newt considered that  _ the _ reason. Minho stood to his feet quicker than Thomas thought he could move. Aaliyah jumped up beside him, grabbing her purse off the ground. 

“Tomboy, Newt,” Minho cleared his throat, walking over and putting his hands on their shoulders. “This really helped me, this talk, so thank you. Obviously we don’t need to be here for this part of the conversation, so we’ll show ourselves out. I love you both, don’t scare your neighbours off with your obnoxiously loud sex.”

Thomas felt himself laughing at this, tension sliding away easily. He looked up at Minho, sending him a thankful smile. Minho pressed a slobbery kiss to each of their cheeks, and led Aaliyah out, locking the door behind them. 

“Wow, sorry,” Newt whispered, sitting on Thomas’s knees. “Didn’t mean to drop a bomb that big.” Thomas pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and then one to his nose. “Y’know what?” 

“What’s that?” Thomas asked, pressing his forehead against Newt’s. 

“You saved me. I know you probably feel extra guilty, but damn it, you saved me, Thomas.” A tear slipped down Newt’s cheek, and Thomas quickly brushed it away. “You saved me by being there for me when I needed you, you’re the reason I waited so long to try and kill myself. You made sure I had my meds every fucking day, no matter what, for four years now. Thomas, we could be having the world’s biggest fight, and you still make sure I have them. You protected me from your dad, even when your organs were cut open and you were bleeding out on the floor. For godsake Thomas, you were nearly inside out when you crawled over to me, and got on top of me. You saved me, so please don’t go feeling guilty about that.”

“You sap,” Thomas teased, pushing Newt off him. Thomas stood up, making his way to the bottom of the wooden staircase, their mattress propped against the adjacent wall. “Shall we take this thing upstairs and consummate the marriage?” 

Newt laughed, walking over to Thomas and wrapping his arms around Thomas’s middle. “I love you,” He whispered, making Thomas blush. Still with the damn blush, even after two years. The stood like that for a few minutes, before Newt pulled back, grabbing the front of the mattress. Thomas grabbed the back of the mattress, and together they started to heave it up the stairs. 

Newt had nearly reached the top when Thomas tripped. He fell forward, landing on the mattress and flattening it against the stairs. Newt stared at him, lips pressde together like he was trying not to laugh. “Your grace is enticing.” 

“Shut up,” Thomas laughed, climbing fully onto the mattress. Newt set the top half down, climbing on and sliding down so he was positioned slightly higher than Thomas. “I love you,” Thomas scooted up, pressing a kiss to Newt’s lips. He pulled him into his arms. 

“I’m so glad we finally have a real house together,” Newt admitted. Thomas pulled on a golden lock, earning a soft smile from Newt. 

“I know,” Nerves hit Thomas in a wave, but he pressed on, determined to complete his plan. “It’s perfect sized to raise our kids.”

“Kids?” Newt whispered, eyes going wide. Thomas smiled at him, cupping the side of his face. He pressed a long, sweet kiss to Newt’s mouth.

“Of course,” he nodded, heart pounding in his chest. “Why don’t we go adopt one tomorrow?” Newt raised an eyebrow, one side of his mouth quirking up.

“Don’t you think that’s a little quick, Tommy? We haven’t even unpacked yet.” 

“Oh, God I’m so stupid,” Thomas laughed, reaching into the pocket of his sweater. “I forgot the most important part of having a family.” Thomas pulled the box out slowly, Newt still hadn’t noticed. 

“What are you on about, you idiot?” Newt laughed, brushing their noses together. Thomas could see a slight blush rising on his cheeks, meaning Newt might be hopeful as to where this was going. He brought the box up beside Newt’s head, opening it with one hand. 

“Getting married, obviously.” Thomas brought the box into Newt’s line of site. Newt’s eyes went wide again, glancing between Thomas and the gold band. His mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, and his face went red. 

“Tommy,” Newt breathed, just to say his name. 

“So Newt, would you like to marry me?” Thomas asked, a new wave of nerves washing over him. He was suddenly terrified that Newt might say no. He looked down at the ring.

“No,” Thomas’s eyes darted up to Newt’s face, his stomach dropping. Newt had one of the biggest smiles on his face, eyes glistening. “I would  _ love _ to marry you.” He surged forward, going to kiss Thomas. Thomas pulled back, making a gagging noise.

“Newton, I was trying to go for non cliche! What have you done, you disgustingly romantic man?” They both laughed, and Thomas pulled the ring out of the box. He grabbed Newt’s hand, sliding the ring on. A new emotion hit Thomas, and he felt his throat tightening. His eyes started to water, and he looked upwards, blinking the tears away.

“Dammit Tommy, why are you crying?” Newt teased, a hint of his own tears clear in his voice. Thomas laughed, letting a tear slip down his cheek. 

“I don’t know,” He admitted, pulling Newt closer. “I don’t know ‘cause everything is perfect, and you’re here and I’m so happy.”

“Now who’s disgustingly romantic?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love every single one of you who read this fic! Thank you all so much! <3 <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if any of you guys want to be my friend and come talk to me... message me on tumblr... I would love to make friends please please please please please  
> http://theshuckiest-shuckface.tumblr.com/


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